Haunted
by Stand In Girl
Summary: Chris Perry Halliwell is haunted by a lot of things. What happens when one of those ghosts steps out of his nightmares and into his reality? Chris-centric. Sequel to Nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Haunted

**Rating:** T to be safe.

**Summary**: Chris Perry Halliwell is haunted by a lot of things: The death of his family, Wyatt's descent into evil, the destruction of the world, and the murder of his fiancé. What happens when one of those ghosts steps out of his nightmares and into his reality?

**Setting:** Season Six. Set directly after my story _Nightmare_. If you haven't read that, you might have some trouble following this.

* * *

**Chapter One**

_"Baby, I've been here before,  
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor,  
You know, I used to live alone before I knew you.  
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch,  
and love is not a victory march,  
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."_

- Jeff Buckley, _Hallelujah_

* * *

_"You have you save us, Chris. You're the only one who can save us."_

_Her voice whispered through the air, elusive and intangible as the wind. He tried to follow it, but it scattered in all different directions, evading him. She repeated it over and over, like a mantra. "You have to save us. You're the only one who can save us."_

_"How?" he howled finally, falling to his knees in the darkness._

_And then light ripped through the empty gloom. Not just light—shapes and objects blinked into existence all around him, filling the previously empty space. He was in the attic, he realized, confusion and vertigo making his head spin._

_"Whatever you're going to do, do it fast! I can't hold him for long!"_

_It was her voice again, and he whirled around in time to see her fly across the room. She landed on the floor, a messy pile of black leather and tangled limbs. He ran to her, his face white with terror. The splintered wood prevented him from moving too close._

_She opened her mouth, and he knew what she'd ask. He was prepared for it, but the second in which he stared at her rapidly blanching face seemed to last forever._

_Then, instead of what she was supposed to say, what he knew she had said, she whispered, "Save us, Chris. You're the only one who can save us."_

_"How?" he asked again, voice shaking._

_"You have to save us…" she repeated, but it was less than a whisper now. Her eyes drifted shut and her entire body stilled. The unnatural stillness struck him more than anything else, and the agony welled up in his throat._

"Bianca!" He jerked upright and nearly tumbled off of the narrow old couch. For a moment his dream clung to him, making him think he was still surrounded by blood and chaos and destruction.

Then he gradually drifted back into the real world, and his body settled, though none of the heavy despair left him. She was still dead, and he still hadn't found a way to save her.

"Chris?"

He jumped violently and looked around, surprised that he hadn't recognized her presence before. Dreams of Bianca always messed with his head.

"Phoebe," he mumbled hoarsely, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He cleared his throat and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Do you always have dreams like that?" she asked instead. He wondered if she was avoiding his question, or if she was just preoccupied by her own curiosity.

"No," he said honestly, because what was the point of being dishonest with her, anymore? "Not always about… her. Usually just about things that happen in the future."

"When you were asleep, you kept saying…." She drifted off, frowning.

"What?" he asked, wary now. He knew he'd yelled for Bianca as he's woken up, but what else had he mumbled in his sleep?

"Something about 'saving us.' You said it over and over again."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, still trying to push back the remnants of the nightmare. "It's what she used to tell me, that I was the only one who could do this. I was the only one who could save the world."

Phoebe's look shifted from concerned to distinctly indignant. "So she's the one who made you think you had to do this all on your own? I bet she's also the one who told you not to tell us, huh?"

He didn't answer, but his steely silence was enough. Her lips pursed.

"Don't bother," he said curtly when she opened her mouth—to let loose some insults about Bianca, he was sure. He changed the subject again. "Why'd you come here?"

Hesitation weaved through her eyes at the question. "Well, I…"

"Spit it out, Phoebe."

"I think you should tell them. Leo and Piper, I mean." He immediately scowled, and she added, "Your _parents_. They deserve to know, Chris. And I don't like keeping something like this from them."

"Too bad," he answered, immediately defensive. He stood, and she scrambled to make room for him in the tiny space. "That was the deal. Don't think that you get to tell everyone else just because you know. Keeping the secret is _still_ important."

"Really? 'Cause from where I'm sitting, the only things secrets have gotten you are mistrust and hell of a lot of animosity. Why are you so against this?"

"Because this is the way it has to be!" he retorted, temper rapidly reaching a boiling point. "I messed up with you, Phoebe, and I admit that. I wish to hell I hadn't. But they can't know; they're not _supposed_ to know. The future would be at risk if they found out."

"You know what I think? I think that's a pretty convenient excuse for you," Phoebe replied. She crossed her arms over her chest and slung her hip out to the side, a stance that would have made a lesser Witchlighter cower. "Whenever you don't want to deal with something, you just say you can't talk about it—that it could damage the future. But I think that's a load of bull. I think seeing your family alive again is hurting you a lot more than you're willing to admit."

"And _I'm_ the one not dealing with things?" he asked, hoping the incredulity was thick enough to hide that her words described him exactly. "You're talking about the death of you and your sisters like it's nothing. Obviously you're not handling this, either."

"It's in the future," Phoebe retorted, but she sounded just a hint uncertain now. "And I'm going to do everything in my power to change it."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"You have to tell them, Chris."

"Look, I'll make you a deal. When we get everything fixed up and I go back to the changed future, you can tell them everything."

She snorted. "That's another escape and you know it."

"Take it or leave it. You're not going to get a better offer."

"And if I tell them anyway?"

The words startled him, and the fear stretched tight across his face before he could control it. Then he swallowed and said, as menacingly as possible, "I'll stop you."

"How?"

Again he pulled up short. He wouldn't do anything to her, but he couldn't let her tell them either. In that moment, he realized how truly exposed he was. There was absolutely no way to stop her if she decided to go through with it. He was powerless.

"Stop it!" Phoebe said abruptly, throwing her hands in the air and looking away from him.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"Stop… _looking_ at me like that," She said finally, pressing the edges of her palms over her eyes for a few moments. When she looked up again, her eyes were serious and sad. "I'm not bad for wanting you to do this, Chris. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"I get that," he mumbled, feeling intensely uncomfortable with this conversation. How was he supposed to keep her separate from the aunt he'd lost when she kept treating him like a nephew?

"She's my sister, Chris. And if you told her—"

"You know she'd just feel guilty about everything." And obligated. And he wanted neither of those things.

"She'd love you."

He recoiled from those words. Secrets might not have gotten him much in the way of trust, but they did protect most of the things he didn't want anyone to see. He missed that advantage now. "I don't _want_ her to. Things are hard enough as it is."

Phoebe didn't say anything for a while, but Chris could see her frown returning. He tensed marginally again, preparing for another onslaught.

"I think you should tell them," she said predictably, but before he could argue she added, "But I won't do it for you. One, because I think it's something you need to face for yourself, and two…." She drifted off, but he figured he knew what the second point would have been.

"Thank you," he said, momentarily allowing his relief to shine through.

"I'm not happy about this," she warned.

"It'll be worth it," he promised.

She stared at him, still solemn, and he wasn't sure what she was looking for. He wondered if he'd have to endure these kinds of stares all the time now that she knew. At least it was better than hostility or disgust.

"Chris? Chris, are you here?"

His eyes widened at the muffled, unexpected voice, but it probably shouldn't have been that surprising. It was still Piper's club, even if she hadn't had much time to work in it lately.

"Stay _here_," he commanded to Phoebe, and then orbed out into the main room.

"Chris!" Piper immediately chastised, frowning at him. "What if someone had seen you?"

"Sorry," he said carelessly. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah," she said, sounding distracted as she glanced around the room. "Do you think you could—Phoebe?"

Chris didn't have to turn around to realize that Phoebe had attempted to duck out of his storage-room-turned-bedroom. He cringed, reminding himself to school her in the art of secrecy later.

"Hey, Piper!" Phoebe said, voice slightly too loud. She hurried over to them, a smile plastered on her face.

"What are you doing here?" Piper asked, looking puzzled.

"I was just helping Chris…clean! I was helping him clean," Phoebe replied, and Chris knew damn well that he hadn't gotten his knack for lying from her. "His room is so dirty all the time… clothes everywhere…."

"_Thank you_, Phoebe," Chris said, sending her an incredulous glare. He'd really picked the wrong sister to spill his guts to, that was for sure. He shook his head and returned his attention to Piper. "What did you want to ask?"

Piper looked slightly taken aback by the strangeness of the situation, but she snapped back into focus after a few seconds. "I wanted to know if you'd watch Wyatt for me. Paige is with him now, but she has a date with Richard and I really need to be here. I tried calling Leo, but I think he's in an Elder meeting over whatever he does Up There."

"Actually, I have plans," Chris replied immediately. "I was going to check back in with the Underworld—"

"No, Chris you should definitely do it!" Phoebe interrupted, smiling brightly at Piper and then giving him a pointed look that a blind person couldn't miss. "You've been spending too much time down in the Underworld, anyway. You should take a break."

"But I—"

"No buts!" Phoebe interrupted, jabbing his arm now. He stared down at her, utterly bemused. Didn't she realize that he wasn't a child, even if he _was_ her nephew?

"Please, Chris?" Piper asked, voice hopeful and sincere. "It would really help. I have a million things to do here, and I've been letting people cover for me for weeks now. I can't keep doing it."

"I don't—" he broke off, looking from Piper's earnest face to Phoebe's calculating one. He was outnumbered, overpowered, and he knew it. "Okay," he said finally, a faint note of helplessness in his voice.

"Good, have fun!" Phoebe said, overly enthusiastic. His eyes narrowed. "You two can bond," she added, confirming his suspicions.

"What are _you_ going to do?" he asked pointedly, subtly glaring at her.

"I have to work," Phoebe said, sounding slightly more pragmatic. "Haven't turned in a decent article all week."

"Are you going into the office for that?" Piper asked, breaking back into their conversation. They both looked sideways at her.

"No," Phoebe said. "But I'm thinking I need to stay out of the manor for awhile—no offense, but Wyatt's kind of hitting that age and I really, really need some peace and quiet—"

"No, I just mean, you can work here if you want," Piper offered, smiling blandly and openly. Chris was instantly suspicious. "I'll be around all day, but it won't get busy for awhile."

"Okay," Phoebe said blithely, apparently oblivious to the purpose under Piper's smile.

Chris quickly tried to warn her. "Phoebe, that's probably not such a—"

"Paige is going to be late for her date if you don't hurry up," Piper said, glancing at him. There was a definite glint in her eyes, even if her words were friendly.

"Right," he said. He shot Phoebe one last look, which she caught and held for just a second. Then she turned back to Piper and Chris orbed away. He hoped their shared glance meant she wasn't going to spill all of his secrets at the very first opportunity.

* * *

"So, did he show you his secret handshake?"

Phoebe looked up from her pad of paper, puzzled. "What?"

"I was just wondering if he gave you some sort of initiation after he told you what he's been hiding. Is there a handshake? Or a codeword, maybe?"

Phoebe felt her face freeze, but she worked hard to keep her expression unaffected. "I'm really not sure what you're talking about."

"Phoebe, please. You were never very good at lying," Piper's hands were on her hips now, a major sign of danger. "I really can't believe this. I can't believe you're going to side with him instead of telling us whatever he knows!"

"You obviously trust him," Phoebe pointed out, sidestepping the real issue. It wouldn't work for long, of course, but she hoped it would suffice until she came up with something else. "You wouldn't have left Wyatt with him if you didn't."

"Yeah, I trust him," Piper waved off impatiently, hands moving from her hips to flutter in the air. An even worse sign, when it came to Piper. It usually meant that she was itching to blow up something. "But that doesn't mean I think he's told us everything, so spill. Right now."

"I don't—I mean—I have no idea what you're—" She finally dropped the pretense when Piper's determined expression didn't change. "Was it that obvious?"

"Are you kidding?" Piper asked dryly. "Since when do you help anyone clean?"

"Oh, stop," Phoebe grumbled, throwing her pen Piper's way. Piper froze it easily and swept it aside. She continued staring at Phoebe, her expression hard and unrelenting. "Fine, maybe he's told me a few things," Phoebe said finally, swayed by the intense scrutiny.

"What things?"

Phoebe hesitated. "I'm not supposed to—"

"Don't you dare say anything to me about future consequences! Don't even _try_."

Phoebe slumped in defeat, closing her eyes briefly. She'd had no idea that her loyalty to Chris would be tested so quickly. How was she going to get out of this unscathed, without betraying either Piper or Chris?

"He told me things about…you," Phoebe said, improvising.

Piper didn't answer, and Phoebe glanced at her. She was startled to see that her sister's expression had shifted from anger to comprehension. "Did he tell you that I die in the future?" Piper asked quietly, and Phoebe gripped the counter of the bar to hold herself upright.

"How did you know?" She gasped before she could think about the words; then she felt guilty. Clamping her lips shut, she promised herself that she wouldn't reveal anymore.

Piper sighed, a weary sound, and sat down on the stool next to Phoebe. "I've been thinking about it since that demon attacked me. Or maybe before that, really. I guess I always wondered…."

"Why?" Phoebe asked, puzzled. Her first thought certainly hadn't been that the Power of Three didn't exist in the future. Heck, she _knew_ it was true, and she still had a hard time believing it.

"Because Chris came back to save Wyatt," Piper said bluntly. "If I'd been alive, I wouldn't have put the fate of my son into a stranger's hands. I would have tried to save him myself."

Phoebe had never thought of it that way. Not once had she ever wondered why it had been Chris to come back instead of one of the sisters. Although now that she knew the truth, she had to admit that Chris was a much likelier candidate than any of them could have guessed.

"Good point," Phoebe admitted finally.

"So that _is_ what he told you?" Piper asked, eyebrows raised expectantly. One way or another, she was determined to get an answer.

And, unknowingly, she had offered Phoebe the perfect out—as long as Phoebe could keep a straight face.

"Yeah," she said, and then cleared her throat when her voice sounded a little scratchy. She felt a pang of guilt, but she reminded herself that she wasn't really lying. She was just… omitting certain things. "Crusk got to you a few years into the future—we were right."

"Well, now I know," Piper said, and she almost sounded casual. But her face was pale.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Phoebe said, immediately feeling guilty. She took one of Piper's hands and was distressed to find it shaking. "I thought you were prepared for this."

"I was—I mean, I thought about it. But actually knowing…." She breathed a shaky sigh, her eyes closing for a few seconds. Then they opened again. "Do I live long?"

Phoebe needed to handle this question delicately. "I don't know, he wouldn't tell me. But I think so. And hey, the demon's dead now, remember? So maybe you won't… you know."

Piper exhaled again, nodding slowly. "So, Chris's mother and I apparently get attacked. Think we have anything in common?"

"No!" Phoebe said too quickly, a note of hysteria in her voice. Then she pursed her lips, annoyed with herself again. "I mean, I don't know, but don't ask him. I think it's a really sore subject."

"I won't," Piper promised. Then, after a few seconds of thoughtful silence she changed the subject. "So how are you?"

Phoebe sighed and grimaced. She had expected Piper to ask her about Jason a long time before now. It was just a mark of how strange their lives were that the question came directly after Phoebe telling Piper that she died sometime in the not-so-distant future. She hesitated in answering, thinking that Piper's need was greater than hers at the moment, but Piper looked desperate for a distraction. Phoebe decided that going along with her was the best thing to do.

"Okay, I guess. I mean, I miss him. And I'm sad that…" Phoebe drifted off, trying to fight back the watery lump in her throat. "I'm sad that Jason found out that way, and that he couldn't get past it. And I keep wondering, if I'd done something different…"

"You can't do that to yourself," Piper said immediately, placing a comforting hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "If it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. And believe me, I understand that well enough," she frowned, and Phoebe knew she was thinking of Leo. Then Piper shook her head and returned to the conversation at hand. "You just have to accept it and move on, you know?"

Coming from anyone else, that would have sounded patronizing, even dismissive, but from Piper it was different. Grateful, Phoebe threw an arm over her sister's shoulders and pulled her into a half hug. Piper laughed and returned it, and then Phoebe pulled away again. She focused on the paper in front of her with a rueful smile.

"Back to work?" Piper asked, eyebrows arching.

"Back to work." Phoebe agreed with a sigh.

* * *

"_Stop it_, Wyatt!" Chris growled, shaking bits of goopy applesauce out of his hair. Wyatt paused in his giggling, tiny face freezing, and Chris realized that the child wasn't used to adults speaking to him so sharply. "Sorry, buddy," Chris said, more quietly now, although he was a little bemused that he felt it necessary to apologize to a toddler. "We're going to try again, okay?"

He slowly lifted the spoon towards Wyatt's mouth. Predictably, not a drop of the applesauce made it past Wyatt's tongue before Wyatt spat the baby food right back into Chris's face. Chris leapt away, but couldn't avoid the flying slop.

"Ugh," he groaned, shaking his head to get rid of the worst of it. He stared at Wyatt for a moment, contemplating deeply. "Okay, so I take it you're not hungry."

Wyatt gurgled.

"Right. So… what else do you want to do?" Chris asked, wondering so why he'd allowed himself to get roped into this situation. He didn't play the babysitter, not even for his infant older brother.

And man, was _that_ a weird thought.

"Never letting you live this down," Chris informed him. "Seriously. Never."

Wyatt's blue eyes twinkled in the too-intelligent way they did sometimes, and Chris worried momentarily that Wyatt understood more than any of them realized. Then Chris shook his head. Of course not. Wyatt was intensely magical, but he wasn't a genius or anything.

"Come on, how about we play with your toys?" Chris asked, removing Wyatt from the highchair and carefully carrying him upstairs to the attic. He set Wyatt down in the already-prepared pen, choosing an object at random from the pile. It turned out to be a rattle. Chris frowned; would Wyatt be interested in that? Weren't they for babies?

He shook it experimentally; Wyatt's lips formed a tiny pout.

"Okay, no," Chris decided, dropping the old toy back into the pile. He grabbed another one, a stuffed bear. He waved it in Wyatt's face.

Wyatt shook his head and the next thing Chris knew, the bear was engulfed in blue-white orbs. It disappeared from his fingers, as did the entire pile of playthings to Wyatt's left.

"Okay, I get it," Chris said, barely refraining from growling again. "What _do_ you want, then?"

Wyatt giggled and smiled, looking distinctly sly. He clapped his tiny hands together.

"Orb it up here," Chris ordered. Wyatt continued to stare at him, the happiness fading from his face. After a second, the somber look turned into a pinched, red expression, and then the tears started.

"Okay, okay! I'll go look for something else," Chris said, on the verge of panicking. How _had_ he gotten pushed into this? He reached around Wyatt and flipped on the baby monitor, grabbing the second one for himself. Piper would be happy with his caution, that was for sure.

He hurried downstairs, scanning the house for something that he knew Wyatt liked. He caught sight of a little booklet with pictures of all sorts of cars. He remembered the way Wyatt had laughed and giggled as Piper had turned the pages for him. He hurried over and scooped it up, anxious at leaving Wyatt alone for even a second. It was probably ridiculous, but when you risked your entire existence to save someone, you tended to get a little overprotective.

He was on the third step when he heard a quiet sound from the monitor in his hand. The first one seemed like nothing, a tiny grunt, but the next one was louder, more troubled. The third sound was a cry, distinctly different from the whiny crocodile tears Wyatt had used earlier, and Chris abandoned walking for orbing. As he reappeared rapidly in the attic, he noticed two things simultaneously. One, that a shimmering, dark form was vanishing into thin air, and two, that Wyatt was projecting his bright force field.

Wyatt began to cry in earnest, and Chris unglued his eyes from the spot where he'd seen the figure disappear. Chris hadn't caught a good look, just the blurred, hazy view of someone shimmering away. Still, it was enough to tell him that something very bad had just happened.

"Shh, it's okay, Wyatt," Chris said, voice shaking a little. After a few moments of coaxing, Wyatt lowered his force-field.

Chris reached into the pen and picked him up, rocking him quietly. "It's okay," Chris said, reassuring both himself and his brother. "You're okay."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Updates will be a little slower for this story than they were for _Nightmare, _since I just started school again and lost a portion of this story due to a tragic computer malfunction. It_ will _be updated, though, so no worries. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 2**

"So you're saying you didn't see anything at all?"

Chris leaned back into the table and perched on the edge of it, hands supporting him and elbows bent. "I only saw enough to know that someone was shimmering—which means someone was in the attic."

"And Wyatt was alone?" Piper continued, and Chris could hear the disapproval in her question. She rocked Wyatt in her arms, to sooth him, Chris supposed. Or maybe to soothe herself.

"I left to find him something he could play with," Chris explained tightly, choosing his words carefully. "I took the baby monitor before I left, and I wasn't gone more than a minute."

Piper deflated a bit, but her arms stayed tight around her son. "This is getting ridiculous," she sighed, passing her free hand over her eyes. "I'm not even sure I can let him sleep in his room anymore."

"Someone should stay with him at all times," Chris admitted, still feeling shaken from the earlier event. If Wyatt hadn't had a force-field, Chris wasn't sure what would have happened. "And not just in the house, but in the same room."

"He'll go insane," Piper sighed, placing a kiss on the infants head. Wyatt wriggled a little.

"But he'll stay alive, and _good_," Chris argued, figuring that those things were worth making Wyatt cranky.

"I don't get how someone got past the crystals, though," Piper said, eyebrows furrowed into a harsh scowl. "There's no way a demon could… but who else would be here?"

"Another witch?" He shook his head, answering his own question, "But they can't shimmer—it's usually a sign of dark magic."

"There are a few though," Piper said, and her face took on a slightly pinched quality, like she wasn't sure she should be mentioning it.

"I know," Chris said, as evenly as he could muster. "But there's no reason her coven would be after him. They _hate_ the arrangement in the future." He pulled a face at how staid and proper that sounded. The _arrangement_. Like Wyatt hadn't enslaved the entire freakin' world.

"Well, are there others out there like them?" Piper questioned, now setting the fussy Wyatt into his playpen.

"Possibly," Chris conceded, and then gestured to the book. "Want me to look?"

"I can," Piper responded, casting her eyes back to Wyatt. "I think I need to sit with him for awhile, anyway."

"Okay, then I could—"

"I'm here, I'm here—I'm sorry I'm late, I'm here!" The frenzied tornado that was Phoebe burst into the room, sliding to a stop just in front of Wyatt and Piper. "Is Wyatt okay?"

"He's fine," Chris answered, maybe a little too quickly. "Nothing happened to him."

"Good," Phoebe said, real relief in her voice as she knelt down to Wyatt's level. He stared at her with wide eyes, and Chris thought he looked amused. "Hi, baby! I'm so glad you're alright." Then she stood and turned toward Chris, and her expression became abruptly serious. "What did I miss?"

"Piper's going to search the book for another witch coven, like the Phoenix." Chris said, and grimaced in annoyance when both sisters shot him a slightly alarmed look, like they thought he was suddenly going to burst into tears. "We're pretty sure a demon couldn't have gotten through the crystals, so we're looking for other options," Chris added by way of explanation.

"Good, that's good," Phoebe said, sounding pleased with the progress—and that she'd missed out on most of the heavy conversation. "I was really worried."

"Me too," Piper said, unwillingly setting Wyatt down into his playpen. She walked over to the Book. "Which means we have to figure out what's going on before anything else happens. I don't think I can take anymore worrying."

* * *

"Chris, come on," Phoebe said, offering a drink to him. "Leo's orbed Wyatt Up There for the night so that Piper can do her thing here, we've found three covens and we have plans to look into each tomorrow, and Paige is off having fun with Richard. You _can_ take a break and breathe, y'know."

"Whatever," Chris replied dismissively. "I don't get how you guys can just forget about everything and come here. What about how worried you all were this afternoon?"

Phoebe shot him a warning look. "First, we're not forgetting anything, Chris—we're just releasing some tension. Second, Piper has to run this club; it's her job. And it'll be the thing supporting both your brother _and_ you, whenever you're actually born. And finally, you know we wouldn't have even set foot in here if we didn't think Wyatt was safe. But he _is_, Chris, and there's nothing wrong with taking a break from the stress. Not that _you'd_ know, but it helps."

"Yeah, but—"

"Sit down. Take some time off—it'll do that neurotic brain of yours some good."

He glowered. "Stop ordering me around. Last time I checked, you weren't my mother."

Her back stiffened and her eyes narrowed. "No, but I _am_ your aunt, and I think that gives me just as much—"

"What are you guys arguing about now?" Piper asked, sliding behind the bar and grabbing some of the bottles under it. Phoebe's mouth went slack, and Chris tried to keep the alarm from his face.

"Nothing," he answered, hoping he hadn't reacted too quickly. "Just…discussing things."

"Uh, okay then," Piper shook her head in a weary way, as if she knew something more was happening but didn't have the energy to figure it out. "Well, listen, I've got about an hour's worth of work here and then I'm heading home. I just want to make sure the band will be okay all night, and I want to watch the new bartender, because I still don't think he knows how to make everything we serve…" She stopped and her eyes focused again. "But anyway, once I'm done, we can all head out of here."

"Not me," Chris pointed out, gesturing toward the storage room in which he slept.

"Oh," Piper said, glancing that way, too. "Well, you can stay at the manor, if you want. Our couch probably isn't any more comfortable, but there's not as much noise."

"No thanks," Chris said, and this time he knew he'd answered too quickly. Both sisters sent him looks, Piper's quizzical and Phoebe's shrewd. "I like it here."

"Okay, fine," Piper answered, somewhat curtly. Chris hoped he hadn't offended her. "But just make sure you—"

But Chris had stopped listening, because his wandering gaze had caught someone in the crowd—someone who couldn't possibly be there. His eyes scanned the teeming dance floor, his heartbeat battling with the pulsing music as he caught sight of her again. A flash of dark auburn hair and exotically tinted features…

He left his stool and pushed his way quickly through the crowd, trying to track her movements as he went. She was heading toward his room now, another sign that it was her and not just some look-a-like in the crowd. He moved faster.

He lost her again, and for a split second he considered orbing to his room. Then he threw that ludicrous idea away and shoved more forcefully through the heavy throng of people. It seemed to take an excruciating amount of time, but once he finally got there, he wrenched the door open and hurried inside.

There was no one there.

He closed the door and slumped against it, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers. He'd half expected to see her there, decked in leather and sitting innocently in the chair by the cabinet. Even if she'd only been there to attack him, he wouldn't have minded. At least she would have been alive.

* * *

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

Chris shook his head, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Not really," he admitted. Denying it would be pointless. He knew he looked like hell.

"Worrying again?"

Chris grinned sheepishly. "Actually, the noise from the club."

Piper clucked disapprovingly and then turned businesslike. "So, I have everything ready in the attic. There are snacks, juice, his favorite toys, some food for you in case you get hungry—there shouldn't be any reason to leave the room."

Chris shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. As if he didn't have enough already. "Why couldn't Leo do this, again?"

He regretted the question when he face tightened marginally. "Because they're calling him Up There a lot more these days."

Chris understood what that meant. Someday soon, the Elders were going to tell Leo that he couldn't come down at all. Chris felt a momentary burst of alarm, because he hadn't been conceived yet, and that wasn't likely to happen if Leo was trapped in Elderland.

"How long do you think you'll need?" Chris asked, shaking his worry off for the moment. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Depends. We've got three covens to visit, and we're not sure how they'll respond to us. If all goes well, it shouldn't take more than a few hours."

"Great," Chris said tunelessly, staring at Wyatt. His brother blinked back at him from Piper's arms, looking deceptively innocent.

"Come on, Chris. It's not like he's all that hard to watch," Piper said, a defensive tilt to her voice.

"I told you I wasn't a kid person. I'm not sure how this became my job in the first place. I agreed _once_."

Piper cracked a smile. "Should have looked more closely at the contract. Agreeing once roughly translates to selling your soul to us for eternity. Ask Leo."

"No thanks," Chris said, waving off that suggestion. "Will you two please just try and be careful? Are you sure you can't get Paige to join you?"

"Paige and Richard—"

"Are doing something together, and she can be herself around him because he's using magic now, and she deserves to have a life—yeah, I've heard all of it already. What _I'm_ concerned about is that she's slacking on her duties and putting her sisters at risk." Chris wished he could just tell Paige to drop Richard and be done with it. It wasn't like she ended up with him anyway.

"I'm not sure she's having fun," Piper said slowly, with an air of confidentiality that caused Chris to perk up somewhat.

"What?" he asked.

"Well, she came by here the other day talking about some sort of intervention—I think Richard's having a hard time controlling his magic."

"Well, that's great," Chris said, bitter again; Paige was putting the magical needs of her boyfriend before those of her sisters.

"Oh, shush. Just do your job and keep Wyatt protected. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"You never promised to be careful," Chris said quickly, allowing the subject change as Piper set Wyatt down and headed out of the room. She paused and looked back at him.

"No promises. We'll try."

Chris sighed and shook his head as she walked away.

"They always try," Chris said to Wyatt. His brother smiled, face glowing openly. "Yeah, yeah," he replied, and didn't even question the fact that he was responding to a baby.

The awkwardness of this, of being around his brother when Wyatt was not only good, but a child, was fading a little more every day. It was almost normal, in fact, and Chris liked being connected to Wyatt again in some small way.

It had seemed so drastic and quick, Wyatt's change. In hindsight it wasn't—it had been lurking inside of Wyatt for years, waiting for the right moment to rip away every last shred of his humanity. But Chris had been too young and naïve to realize the way Wyatt had become just a little darker every day.

Chris had also adored his brother to the point of blindness, and their parents had been the same way. That faith had ended up destroying their family and destroying Wyatt. There hadn't been anyone trying to stop it, not until it was far too late.

The loss of his family had seemed abrupt and earth-shattering, too. His mother had disappeared in the blink of an eye, the sisters had foolishly followed her, and Wyatt had turned after that. Everything he'd spent most of his life taking for granted had been ripped away in a few years, and now _this_ was normal. Being in the past just to escape a future so horrible that he would never survive it if he went back.

Chris absently ran his long fingers over the scar marring the skin of his shoulder. He could feel the rough, puckered line through the fabric of his shirt, and it anchored him. It was too late there. That future had to be scrapped; there was no fixing it.

Sometimes it felt like he could do it this way, like he could wipe the slate clean and start all over. But some days his goal felt too far away to reach in time. Either way, the future wasn't set in stone here. It was open and free, and because of that it offered the chance of a better one. And no matter how slim the opportunity, it was the only thing that gave Chris hope.

He was pulled out of his musings when Wyatt gurgled. Chris looked around and realized that Wyatt had wandered to the back of the pen to play with his toys, probably sensing that Chris wasn't paying attention to him. He looked bored, and there was a pout marring the squishy lines of his face.

"What? Are you hungry?" Chris asked, lacking the ability to know what Wyatt wanted without thinking about it out loud. Wyatt was his usual unhelpful self.

He was even more unhelpful when he picked up one of his playthings—a toy truck—and flung it across the room. It hit the ground at an angle and slid until it slammed into the opposite wall.

"Wyatt!" Chris admonished. Wyatt laughed. "Unbelievable. Not even a year old and you're _already_ a pain in the ass."

Wyatt giggled louder, seeming to understand the gruff, brotherly affection buried inside the insult. Or maybe Wyatt wasn't understanding anything and Chris should stop cursing in front of the baby. Piper would kill Chris if Wyatt picked it up,

Chris shook his head and moved to pick up the toy. Wyatt aided him by tossing another one. It slid neatly next to the truck. "Good to see you've still got your aim," Chris grumbled.

He bent down and scooped up both of Wyatt's things, telling himself that if Wyatt threw them again, Chris wouldn't give them back. As Chris straightened in front of the large bay window, a flash of someone outside caught his eye. He didn't see anything particularly mythical or suspicious-looking, but he froze anyway, tilting his head until it rested against the glass.

It was a woman. Her back was toward him, and she was walking away. But even from this distance he could see that her hair was a strange color, somewhere between brown and red. Her walk was distinctive, too, one that said she was a lot more dangerous than her slight body implied.

Barely breathing, Chris struggled to keep her in sight. He couldn't say the same for his sanity—he figured he'd left that back at the club where he'd seen her the first time.

She halted gracefully, back still toward him, simple clothes oddly contrasting with the stiff set of her back. Then she disappeared.

And Chris' heart stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I've got something to tell you."

Chris had hesitated since the sisters had gotten back, and the fact that Paige had shown up just made everything worse. He didn't even have it in him to scold her for appearing _after_ the job was done (a totally worthless job that had gotten them nothing but a few more enemies), and in his present, agonized mood, he wasn't willing to listen to her babble about her problems with Richard.

"What?" Piper said, turning toward him, Wyatt carefully balanced on her hip. Her son was usually glued to her, anyway, but this new threat made it seem as if the infant were actually attached.

"I said, I have something to tell you."

He saw the way their eyes widened at those words, the way their faces went slack. He could almost hear their brains whirring, independently but with the same basic thought: What was he going to tell them now? What secret would he uncover that would give them just a little more insight into the horrid future they were supposed to stop? Even Phoebe looked curious, and she knew a lot more than the other two.

They were going to be disappointed.

"Okay," Paige said, in her usual blunt way. "Do you need further prodding, or are you ready to spill?"

He rolled his eyes at her, reveling in the luxury of being able to do that. It had been outlawed the second she'd become his teacher.

"Last night at the club, I saw this girl—"

"Okay, Chris, I'll be really happy if you met some woman," Paige began, interpreting his words wrongly and diving right into the subject anyway. "You could use some loosening up. But seriously, I do _not_ want to hear about it."

He shot her an incredulous glare and snorted. "Would you at least let me finish first?"

"Fine. I'm just saying, we start talking about your sex life and I'm out of here."

"I saw a girl at the club last night," he began again, defiant eyes on Paige. Then his anger settled and the dread took over as he realized what he was admitting to. "And the thing is…she looked like…"

"Just say it, Chris." This time the comment was from Piper, and he obeyed without thinking about it.

"She looked like Bianca. In fact, I'm pretty sure she _was_ Bianca."

A silence greeted his words, and not a regular or even tense kind of silence. No, this was more of a _nobody move too fast because he's completely lost his mind _kind of quiet.

"I'm not crazy," he said, although the tight way he said it might not have helped his cause.

"Of course not, honey," Phoebe said, her voice calm and gentle. It didn't work, but he appreciated the effort. "But you told us that she was…well…"

"Dead," he finished when she couldn't. At their stares, he added angrily, "Look, I'm not going to break down over it. I moved on." That was a lie, but he had at least gotten to the point where the pain wasn't all-encompassing anymore.

"Well, if you're seeing her, you probably haven't moved on." Piper said. speaking in that soothing yet firm way. It said she was trying to be understanding and helpful at the same time.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. Would you guys just listen?" They all fell silent, but they didn't look like they would stay that way for long. He took the small opening. "I saw her again outside the house today, and there's no doubt that it's her. Or, a very good replication of her."

"A…you mean…?" Piper's eyes widened, and he could tell that she was the first to understand.

"Yes. I mean, I think Jack is back. And I think he's trying to mess with me."

Piper's eyes slid closed as she shook her head and held up her hands in a quelling gesture. When they opened again, Chris could see the surprise in them. "How, though? And why?"

"Well, unless he's half-human, he wasn't born with a human form. That means that he has the ability to shape-shift—and if he can do that, he isn't restricted to one body." Chris remembered the latter half of her question and added, "And he's probably doing it because he didn't get answers out of me last time. I'm guessing the threat of the Charmed Ones has been the only thing keeping him away from me. Maybe he's decided it's worth the risk, or that I won't catch onto him."

"So why's he doing this now, you think?" Piper asked, looking more convinced now. Paige and Phoebe studied Chris and Piper intently, but didn't have anything to add yet.

Chris shrugged. "I know you guys think I'm all-knowing or something because I've seen the future, but I really don't have a clue. All of this is new to me—as far as I know, I've never heard of him besides the witch attacks."

"Did he kill all of the witches he attacked?" Paige was asking now, her eyes intent on his face.

Chris shifted a little under her gaze. "Yeah. And they were powerful witches, too—although not quite as strong as the three of you."

"But he _did_ kill me," Piper said, voice deceptively calm and quiet.

Every muscle in Chris' body froze for a brief second. Then he whirled on Phoebe, his eyes accusing.

"Don't bother yelling at her. I had that much figured out on my own, anyway," Piper interrupted. "He attacked me, Chris. Just say it."

"Fine," Chris said, but he kept his eyes away from her. She thought it was simple for him to talk about this, and he admitted that the assumption was his fault—but still. "He sent Crusk after you. And that time he didn't fail."

"Well, what if he was paving the way for Wyatt?" Piper speculated, looking as if the news of her death hadn't shaken her at all. Chris stared at her incredulously. "If he _is_ the one who turns my son evil, maybe he was getting rid of anybody who could have stopped Wyatt before he'd become powerful enough to take over."

Chris' eyes widened at the theory. It was so simple and yet he hadn't thought of it before. "Maybe. But _why_? Why would he want Wyatt in power? It's not great for them either, it's—"

He broke off when he realized the way the sisters were looking at him—like he was about to reveal something that would sate their ever-growing curiosity.

When it became clear he wasn't going to continue, Phoebe said, "Wait, isn't this a _good_ thing, though?"

Chris paused, incredulity covering his expression. "How on earth could this be good thing?"

"Because we've figured out his plan," Phoebe said firmly, hands on hips and expression fierce in response to his exasperation. "And more than that: We've figured out who attacks Wyatt."

Chris met her gaze for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly. "True. But that doesn't mean he'll be any easier to stop."

"Which is why _we_ need a plan. To, you know, counteract _his_ plan."

"Okay, deal," Chris conceded, spreading his arms in an open gesture. "Got anything in mind?"

* * *

Chris shivered a little and tucked his hands into his pockets to ward off some of the damp chill. He glanced down one alley, and then looked left at another. Both seemed equally shabby and ragged; he chose at random and headed left.

He couldn't see very much in the scant light from the rundown apartments overhead, but he was comfortable enough with darkness. He walked further, but made sure he had enough purpose behind his stride so that he didn't look like he was absently wandering.

He wondered what the sisters were doing at this moment. They were supposed to be scrying for him and therefore marking his position constantly. Once he'd stayed still for more than three minutes, they were to orb to his location and provide backup. At least, he hoped so, because son of a Charmed One or not, he didn't have the power to fight off this kind of evil alone.

He heard it before he saw it, ears attuned as they were to even the slightest sound. They picked up the faint rustle of fabric and the quiet, repetitive sound of shoes sliding wetly against damp concrete. He struggled to keep himself from tensing, and instead took a few more steps toward the last part of the alley. It was a complete dead end, with three brick buildings bordering it on all sides.

The footsteps stopped when he did, but Chris didn't need them to let him know someone was keeping pace with him. After staring blankly at the wall in front of him for a moment, he turned and raised his hands into a defensive position, scanning over the darkened area around him.

"I know you're here," he called loudly, his voice echoing over the hard surfaces around him.

There was no reply, and nothing in the alley moved.

Chris focused his senses, remembering the techniques he'd used while he'd been on the run in the future. He couldn't see much of anything, so he closed his eyes and listened instead. Again he picked it up, the small, scratchy sound of clothing against brick.

He orbed instinctively, still letting his senses guide him, and ended up directly behind his stalker. She'd been lurking behind one of the rusted dumpsters at the beginning of the all. He reached out and grabbed her, willing his grip to be forceful.

She yanked out of his reach and disappeared, and he cursed and orbed back to the center of the lane. He prayed that the opportunity of himself cornered and alone was too tempting to pass up.

And that appeared to be true. She walked out of the shadows to stand directly in front of him, and he was momentarily mesmerized by the way she moved. It was a perfect imitation of that fierce, fiery stride, and everything from her exquisite face to her shoulder-length hair was immaculate. There was no leather this time, but she still looked sexy and alluring.

He willed himself to see her—him—for what he was.

"Hey, Chris," she said, and her voice was just like he remembered.

"Wow," he said, and then cleared his throat when his voice came out a little hoarse. "That's impressive."

Her features pulled up into a frown. "What?"

"I had no idea you could be so accurate," Chris said harshly, gesturing toward her. "Have you even met Bianca before?"

Comprehension filled her eyes, and he had to avert his gaze from the familiar sight. God, but it looked like her. Chris wondered if Jack had gotten her scent right, too.

"It's me, Chris," she said, sounding so much like Bianca that it physically hurt him. He resisted the urge to massage the tightness from his chest. "I'm—I'm not dead."

"Yes, you are!" Chris retorted, and he hadn't realized he'd yelled until he heard the echoes of it. He quickly lowered his voice. "I get it, you're trying to screw with me. Great work—you look just like her."

"Who do you think I am?" she—he sounded angry now. She placed her hands on her hips and sent him a blazing glare, one he remembered all too well.

"I think you know," Chris answered confidently, but he was confused by his tactics. Why sit here and talk about it? Why not just attack? Unless he wanted to mess with Chris's head even more before he moved in for the kill, which was entirely possible.

It didn't matter anyway. He'd been here for five minutes at least, and his backup was arriving soon.

And, as if on cue, they made their entrance in a mass of thick blue sparkles. The light threw the deep shadows of the alley momentarily into relief, and Chris caught the shock and fear that flashed across the Bianca look-alike's face.

Then the scuffle immediately broke out, and Chris couldn't keep track of all four witches at once. He hurried forward to throw himself into the battle, but it was over much sooner than he expected. It ended with Phoebe and Paige bodily restraining the look-alike, while Piper stood imperially in front of her.

Bianca-Jack was looking at him now, arms held behind her back by Paige. Her eyes were large and pleading. "Chris…"

It was this behavior above all else that let him know this being wasn't Bianca. She would never have lost a fight so quickly or submitted so easily. But she didn't seem like Jack either, or at least Chris couldn't understand Jack's motives for surrendering this way.

"Chris," She said again, fire behind her voice even though it trembled. He looked away, refusing to answer. "Haven't we been here before?"

He didn't understand for a second. Then he took a shaken step backward, his mouth falling open. "How'd you know?" he demanded finally, voice harsh.

"Finish it." She ordered.

"Maybe we will be again," he said, swallowing thickly when she smiled at him.

Then she fainted.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! Any confusion should be cleared up in this next part...._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"Chris, I don't think—"

"It's her."

"But you said it yourself that she's—"

"Obviously she's not."

"But how can you just accept it when—"

"Because she knew the last thing she said to me," Chris said clearly, eyes narrowed. "No one else could have."

There were more arguments, more scattered words and phrases, but Chris wasn't listening anymore. He orbed to the attic where Bianca was sleeping, materializing just a few feet from her prone form.

He approached her slowly, taking in the sight. He'd always loved to watch her sleep. It was the only time she ever lost that stiff, hardened Phoenix facade. Once he was close enough, he slowly reached out and trailed his fingers down her cheek.

Her hand snapped up and her fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist. He froze as her eyes fluttered open, and he could see the groggy confusion in them. He waited patiently for her to wake up, remembering occasions when this situation had been reversed.

"Chris?" She breathed finally, but her grip didn't loosen.

"Yeah," he said with an attempt at smiling, but it fell flat on his lips.

Her eyes fluttered closed again, and her fingers went lax. He felt another pang of worry at the obvious signs of fatigue.

"What's going on, Bianca?" he asked, and even he wasn't quite sure what he meant by it. There were so many impossibilities in this situation.

Her eyes flickered open and she sat up suddenly. Instead of responding, however, she reached out and mirrored his earlier actions, fingertips stroking his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, and she flattened her palm against his cheek.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered, sounding broken despite his efforts to hide it.

"I was," Bianca replied, voice equally soft and trembling.

Chris opened his eyes and stared in unabashed confusion. "What happened?"

"Wyatt," She replied, pulling her hand away. He could practically see the walls stacking up behind her eyes, and he knew she was hiding something from him.

Distracted by her reaction, it took Chris a second to understand what she'd said. "He…healed you?" he gasped finally.

"Yeah," she said tightly, coldness seeming to radiate off of her in waves. "Guess he decided I wasn't worthless."

"Did he… did he send you back here?" Chris asked, swallowing hard past the lump that had rapidly built up in his throat. "Are you going to try to take me back again?"

She stared at him for a moment, and the ice in her eyes thawed a little. "No, Chris," she said softly, standing so that she was just inches from him. "If I took you back now, he'd kill you."

Chris flinched. "He's given up on me, then?"

"He knows you won't join him," Bianca amended, "And he knows persuasion won't work."

Chris laughed bleakly, but the pain clung to the lines of his face. "That shouldn't matter to me."

"I'm sorry, baby," Bianca said, her words little more than a whisper. "I know you loved him."

He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. With pain like this, the only real thing to do was to let it wash over you. There was no escaping it.

When his emotions settled again, he opened his eyes and attempted a grin. "I love you more."

Her face stayed serious. "No you don't," she said softly, hand trailing down his arm to find his fingers, which she laced with hers. "But that's okay. He's your brother."

At that statement, everything came tumbling back to him. His gaze swung toward the door and he was relieved to find that the sisters hadn't followed him up the stairs. He was surprised they'd given him the privacy.

"Listen," Chris said, looking urgently at Bianca now. "They don't know, so you can't say anything."

Bianca's mouth fell open in a rare display of surprise. "You haven't told them yet?"

Chris frowned at her reaction. "You're the one who said I shouldn't."

She snapped her jaw closed and shook her head, voice low. "I know, but you've been here for so long—I never thought you'd be able to keep this from them."

Chris swallowed hard. Some of his old insecurities floated to the surface; he'd forgotten how Bianca's fierce, deadly attitude affected him. "I'm stronger than you think."

"No," Bianca said firmly. "It has nothing to do with strength."

"Then what?" He asked, struggling not to be confrontational about it.

She wasn't given the chance to answer, because right then all three sisters barreled up the stairs and into the attic. Apparently their patience didn't stretch too far. He was almost grateful for their care, especially when Piper's gaze flickered over him like she was making sure he was okay, but mostly it was annoying.

"Can I help you?" He asked, just to aggravate them.

Piper didn't rise to the bait, though. "Well, an explanation would be nice," she said. "I know you're not very _fond_ of those, but in this situation…."

"I thought Bianca was dead. She isn't," he answered through tightly clenched teeth. "Good enough?"

"No," Paige spoke up. "We'd actually like you to tell us how you know she's not evil."

Chris opened his mouth, but then drew up short. He looked at Bianca.

"I'm not," She offered, as if it helped any.

"How did we go from thinking it was Jack to knowing it was really her?" Phoebe asked, a hard edge in her usually light voice. "I'm still a little fuzzy on that."

"She knew what I said to her before she died," Chris answered, the same time Bianca said, "Who's Jack?"

"How do you know Jack didn't read your mind or something?" Paige retorted, ignoring Bianca's question completely.

Once again, Chris didn't know how to answer. He didn't really have an answer—he just _knew_ she was Bianca, and not an imposter.

"He could never hold his form," Chris filled in finally, meeting Paige's eyes. It didn't exactly answer her question, but he thought it would help. "When he was angry or upset, he always shifted—he didn't seem very stable. She hasn't flickered or faded at all. And what would be the point of coming here? Why would that be a good strategy?"

"Puts him closer to Wyatt," Piper pointed out, hands on her hips. Luckily the infant was Up There again. Even if Chris trusted Bianca, he still wouldn't put Wyatt in the middle of a situation like this.

"And right in the hands of the three of you," Chris pointed out. "Obviously that's not what he wants, if his disappearance is any indication."

The room was quiet as the sisters absorbed this explanation. Then Piper spoke up, the suspicion not completely gone from her face, "Chris, ask her some questions. Stuff only she'd know."

"But—"

"Just do it," Piper said, eyes narrowed.

"Fine," Chris said curtly, turning to Bianca again. "Where did we meet?"

"In the Underworld, two years ago," Bianca responded evenly. "Wyatt was holding you there."

"And what did you do?"

"Helped you break out," She replied promptly.

"What did you do last time you were in the past?"

Bianca's expression tightened. "Drained your powers and took you back."

"What did you do before that?" Piper interrupted, and Chris looked at her. It was a fair question. "What spell did you cast?"

"One that lowered your inhibitions," Bianca said, and he thought he heard a tinge of regret in her voice. "That way you forgot that protecting Chris was more important than your needs, and I was able to grab him and get him back to the future."

That caused Chris to pause. "How'd you get _here_, anyway? I took the other spell back with me."

Bianca hesitated a moment before answering. "He'd… memorized it," she replied, and the simplicity of her answer made Chris feel stupid. How could he have thought thwarting Wyatt would be as easy as removing a page from the Book? "I told you he invented a new time-travel spell—he studied the old one as a kind of guide."

"He had it memorized," Piper repeated, expression going blank. Chris wanted to say something to her, but she continued before he had the chance. "Which means he had to give you the spell—which means he must have sent you. Again."

Chris wanted to rail against these words, but he couldn't deny them. He turned toward Bianca, intent on getting some other answer, but she was silent.

"Bianca?" Chris asked, already feeling the sting of betrayal.

"He… did send me here," She said haltingly, sounding nothing like the strong, sure Phoenix he remembered. His mind played back over all of the things that seemed wrong. The way she'd given in so quickly earlier and then lost consciousness; the way she looked pale and sickly even now, on a comfortable couch in a warm room.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't find the words. Which turned out okay, because Piper found them for him.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked. "You don't act like the same witch who held a knife to my throat."

Bianca tensed, but she wasn't looking at Piper. Her eyes were on Chris, and he could see the jumbled mix of emotions in them.

"Baby…" She began, eyebrows pulling together.

"No," he interrupted, taking a step back from her. "Answer. What's going on, Bianca?"

"I'm…I'm sick," she said, but it was such a vague response that it didn't help at all.

"Sick _how_?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting or reaching for her. "A cold? Cancer? What?"

"More like… a demon virus," She answered, sounding as if it was costing her a lot to say it.

"Like what you gave me?" He asked, remembering when she'd started draining his powers.

"Right," She answered hesitantly. He'd never heard her sound so uncertain. "Only, it's not draining my powers. Well it is, but that's not its purpose."

"Then _what_?" Chris asked, even though he really just wanted to say, _then what can we do to stop it?_

She looked at him, and he read the horrible truth in her eyes.

"_No_." He backed away further, holding up his hands as if to ward away the knowledge.

"Chris—"

"Tell me you're not dying," he pleaded, unable to stop himself. When she didn't answer, the truth forced its way into his head. "That's why he sent you back, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly, and some of her former energy returned to her eyes. But it was a pale imitation. "He says he'll give me the cure if I bring you back."

"Then we have to—we have to find some way to do it," he declared immediately, but he couldn't think of anything that would work. He'd escaped Wyatt once by pure luck. He didn't have the power or the resources to do it again.

"No!" Bianca said, striding toward him. "Didn't you hear me, Chris? He'll _kill_ you. It's not like last time—last time he promised to let you live! I thought—I was so naive—I thought that we could do this another way. I thought we could win in the future. But _this_ is the only way, and I won't let you fail because of me."

"So I get to watch you die for me?" he asked, voice trembling. His hands rounded into fists. "No. I can't."

"I'm not giving you a choice," She said, a note of steel in her voice. Then she shook her head, eyes closing in despair. "I shouldn't have let you know I was here. But I was worried…." She reached out to him again, and this time he didn't step away from her. He returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair. "He'll send more," she whispered into his ear. "I've been trying to make sure you're safe, but I won't always… he'll send more."

"It doesn't matter," he said roughly, pulling away from her just enough to look into her eyes. "I'm going to save you, okay? And then we'll deal with it."

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, shaking her head. Then she kissed him, and there was a terrible desperation behind it. He returned the kiss just as fiercely, but she pulled away from him after only a few seconds.

"Stay safe, Chris." She said in a carrying voice, and he knew that it was her way of asking the Charmed Ones to protect him, too. "Don't make all of this for nothing."

Then she stepped away and disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

He clenched the engagement ring tighter in his fist as he held the crystal over the map. Every time he completed a circle without a hit, his grip tightened until he couldn't feel his fingers. Then he forced them to relax as he began to make another loop.

Nothing. He had to wonder if it was because the ring was more _his_ than hers now. It had been in his possession far longer than she'd had it, and maybe she wasn't as attached to it. Maybe she didn't believe in its promise anymore.

"Dammit," he hissed when the crystal made yet another pointless round. He jerked in surprise when a hand slid gently over his tightly compressed fingers.

"You should calm down," Phoebe said, and on a normal day the soothing quality of his aunt's voice would have been enough.

But today wasn't normal. Today his fiancé was dying.

"I have to find her," he said through gritted teeth. Phoebe lowered herself into the chair next to him.

"I know," she said quietly. She didn't say anything else for awhile, probably giving him a chance to adjust to her presence. She was instinctive like that.

"What are you going to do afterwards?" She asked finally, a touch of worry in her tone.

Chris hadn't thought that far ahead yet. He said nothing.

"Would Wyatt really… would he really kill you?"

He heard the doubt in her question. "Yeah," Chris said gruffly. He believed it absolutely. "He's already given me too many chances to join him. He's not going to put up with me anymore."

Chris heard her release a shaky breath and he glanced up. Her face was pale, her eyebrows drawn together. "My sisters… they mean so much to me. I would do _anything_ for them. And Paige—I had moments in Hong Kong where I all I did was _worry_ about her."

Chris avoided her eyes and focused on the crystal again. He understood what she was trying to say. "Wyatt and I aren't like that, Phoebe. Nothing matters to him except power—the only thing he's done for me is let me live. And now he's not even doing that anymore."

"I disagree," She said quietly. He looked at her sharply, an angry protest on his lips, but she forestalled him. "I mean, _he_ might not be protective like me, but look at what you're doing for him. If this isn't the definition of 'anything,' I don't know what is."

He looked away from her. "This is for the world, not Wyatt."

"That's a lie. I'm sure you want the help the world too, but don't tell me this has nothing to do with saving your brother."

"Fine, is that what you want to hear?" Chris snapped impatiently. There were other things to worry about. "I loved Wyatt. I looked up to him. Most of the time I wanted to _be_ him. Can you even _imagine_ how it felt when he turned?"

"I can't. But you could probably ask Piper or Paige," He sent her a puzzled glance, and she added, "It's happened to me. Not my proudest moment."

"Oh," he said, realization striking. He was momentarily distracted by that thought "Right. You know, that's actually what gave me the idea that Wyatt was turned, and didn't just _choose_ to be evil. You had a lot of influences on you at the time—the poison, the baby."

She stared at him incredulously. "What were those, bedtime stories? Did we really tell you _everything_?"

Chris shrugged. "If you didn't, the textbooks did. Imagine studying your own family in Magical History—what a nightmare. Wyatt loved it, though. The Twice Blessed got a page or two."

"What about you?"

Chris' smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was mentioned, but unnamed. Guess it just wasn't as exciting the second time around."

"I don't get that," Phoebe said quietly as Chris continued his monotonous work. "How'd you end up less powerful?"

Chris didn't answer her question right away. It struck a very tender, frayed nerve. Finally he said, "It had never happened before, at least not between a Charmed One and her Whitelighter, and because of the ripple it created, his magic just ended up being more… concentrated than mine. It's not exactly an easy thing for me to accept."

"I can understand that," Phoebe commented casually, and Chris paused to look at her.

"How could _you_ understand?"

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "You're forgetting that I was the youngest sister for most of my life. Trust me, when we first figured out what we were, I was so jealous of Piper and Prue. They had the _real_ powers, the physical ones that helped them win fights. And all I could do was see things ahead of time. I used to think that they'd soaked up all of the magic and just left a tiny bit of it for me."

Chris was surprised by how precisely her words fit his own experiences. "But lucky for you, it was all in your head. Neither of them was more powerful than you, and Paige isn't either."

"Maybe it's in your head, too," Phoebe said, and he had to crack a smile at her optimism. "Did anyone _tell_ you that you were less powerful?"

"Yeah," Chris said, his smile turning bitter. "My father."

He could see the way she fought against that information. "Wait… Leo? You're saying that _Leo_—"

"Look, I really don't want to talk about this right now," Chris said, looking pointedly at the map on the table. "I need to find—"

The crystal slammed to a halt on the map, and Chris froze. Then he hurriedly stood and looked at the place where the magical locater had landed. "Bianca," He finished, heart pounding. He didn't waste another second, just disappeared into a mass of blue orbs.

* * *

Chris walked up to the arboretum, eyes slitting against the bright sunlight that reflected off the smooth stone archways. He saw her as soon as he stepped into the small circle. She looked even paler against the brightly colored flowers that grew behind her. She was hunched forward, elbows on her knees and hair falling down to shield her face. He moved without thinking, kneeling in front of her when he was close enough.

She didn't look up, but she didn't push him away either. "I couldn't keep doing it."

"What, cloaking yourself?" Chris asked. "You shouldn't have tried anyway. It obviously hurt you."

"I was… motivated," She said, breathing heavily. Now that he was close to her, he noticed the light sheen of sweat that covered her face. "I'm trying to protect you."

"Well, stop," Chris said, keeping his voice low. "Stop cloaking yourself, stop running every time you see me—just _stop_. Let _me_ protect _you_."

"You _can't_," She whispered, sounding so defeated that he felt his courage slipping.

He scrambled to pull it back into place. "I will," he promised, grabbing her shoulders lightly. "We'll work it out."

"How?" She asked, shaking his hands away and straightening her back. She glared at him, some of her pride returning. "How are you going to save me and stop Wyatt at the same time?"

"I don't—I'll think of something," Chris said. He really had no plan past this, past finding her and bringing her back to the manor.

"I told you, I won't let you screw this up for me," Bianca said, getting to her feet. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, worried she'd suddenly disappear and leave him clamoring to find her again.

"Don't bother," She said, attempting to shake him off. He didn't let go. "I can't shimmer."

He gritted his teeth against that news. "How long?"

"How long, what? How long have I had it, or how long until I die?"

He flinched but answered, "Both."

"Three weeks ago," Bianca said, and Chris mentally calculated. Just about the time that Jack disappeared off the radar. "And Wyatt said I'd have a month."

"A month," Chris repeated hollowly, fingers going slack. "So that means a week, maybe more."

The hard line of her mouth made it look like she had something to say, but when she opened it she just answered, "Yeah."

"And you weren't going to tell me. You were just going to let it…."

"Kill me."

He couldn't hide the betrayal he felt. "How could you do that?"

"It wasn't like you didn't already think I was dead! Wyatt's _using_ me to get to you. I promised myself I'd never be that bastard's pawn again."

"He healed you."

Now she looked betrayed. "And I'm supposed to, what? Feel thankful? He saved me because he needed me, Chris! Don't fool yourself into thinking differently—don't start hoping again."

"I didn't—I didn't mean…." He broke off and shook his head, not sure why he had said it in the first place. "Do you know where the virus came from?"

"No, Wyatt didn't lay out all the details from me," At Chris' nod she added, "It was a potion of some kind—he forced it down my throat."

"How'd he manage to do that? What… happened to you after I left?"

She met his gaze for a few seconds and then looked away, studying the flowers. "I don't want to talk about it."

He nodded. Even though a part of him itched to know, he understood the necessity of secrets. Sometimes they weren't kept for any other reason than to protect yourself.

"And if I go back with you, he'll give you the cure?"

She looked at him sharply, eyes going wide. "Don't even think about it, Chris. He's probably lying anyway, and even if he isn't, why would I want to go back? He wouldn't let me go even if he did give me the antidote."

"You could escape."

"He'll kill you. _Kill_ you, Chris," Bianca emphasized, her expression dark.

"I heard you the first time," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. "I'll think of something. The sisters will help—we'll find a way to save you. Just come with me, alright?"

She took a step backwards, and his fingers immediately tightened around her wrist. "Chris, I…"

"No," He said shaking his head emphatically. "No arguments."

He tugged on her wrist and she caved to the pressure easily, slipping forward a few steps. He wrapped his arms firmly around her and, before she could protest, he orbed them back to the Manor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The sisters were waiting when they got back. Chris stared at them as he let go of Bianca, trying to figure out if they were preparing for another ambush. Then he saw the cauldron bubbling on the table and the potion in Piper's hands. He quickly stepped forward, placing himself firmly between his family and his fiancé.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as calmly as he could manage.

"Relax, Chris," Phoebe said, and he looked at her briefly before returning his eyes to his mother.

"If she's going to stay here, she needs to take this," Piper said resolutely, shaking the bottle in her hand. "It won't hurt her—it just returns the drinker to their original form. If she's an imposter, we'll know."

"And if she refuses to take it?" Chris asked, eyeing the ingredients on the table behind them. Could they interact with the virus and make her sicker?

"I won't," Bianca said, walking around Chris. She grabbed the vial from Piper's hands and removed the cork.

"Wait—"

"It'll be fine, Chris," Bianca reassured, and then swallowed the purplish liquid. Chris held his breath and waited, but nothing happened. After a few seconds he was pretty sure nothing would.

Bianca dropped the vial, and it shattered at Piper's feet. "Satisfied?" She asked the other woman.

Piper's eyebrows arched. "For now."

"You know, it's too bad you didn't have that kind of caution in the future. A little more of it and you might have stopped the world from becoming a playground for all the evil things in the Underworld."

Piper didn't look ruffled. "Things like you, you mean?"

Bianca's stance tensed. "I'm a _witch_. It's not my fault you still follow an outdated code set by people who had no idea what we were capable of."

"You mean saving innocent people and not using magic for personal gain? Tell me how a code like that becomes outdated, Bianca."

"Stop it," Chris said, stepping between the two women again. He gripped Bianca's arms and pulled her back slightly, putting some distance between her and the sisters. Then he turned his eyes to Piper. "Both of you."

A crack spread through Piper's calm, even expression. "If we're going to help her, then she's going to show us some respect."

"Respect?" Bianca echoed with a sardonic laugh. "How can I respect you? You weren't even around to protect your own _son_ from his br—"

"Bianca!" Chris interrupted. He pulled her back a few more steps and spun her to face him. The furious expression on her face was doused by the pallor of her skin and the hollowness of her cheeks. "Come on," he said finally, pointing her towards the door. "Let's get you something to eat."

She shrugged off his hands and shot him a steely look. "I can do it myself."

"No," Piper said immediately. "You're not wandering around this house by yourself."

"I'll go with her," Phoebe volunteered, stepping past Piper and Paige.

Bianca met Phoebe's eyes, and the two women stared at each other long enough to make Chris nervous. Finally, Bianca nodded. As they left the attic, Piper turned back to Chris.

"What?" he asked defensively when she didn't say anything. He hoped she hadn't caught Bianca's slip-up. "She took the potion."

"She's got an attitude," Piper retorted, scowling.

"She's been through a lot," Chris defended. "And she's— sick. You could at least try to be nice to her."

"_She_ could try being nice to _us_." Piper replied, looking more affronted by the second. "We're trying to help her."

Chris walked to the table and leaned against it, suddenly feeling exhausted. "You can't understand what it's like for her."

Chris looked up sharply when Piper scoffed. She caught his gaze and waved her hands impatiently. "No, I can't. I can't understand what it's like in the future, because I haven't been there. But you know what, Chris? I'm a little tired of that excuse. It sucks, I get it, but that doesn't give her the right to be disrespectful. Not when we're the ones trying to protect her."

He caught the subtext in her comment and realized that she wasn't just speaking of Bianca. He clenched his teeth against the guilt, but it filled his stomach all the same. He'd been a jerk, and he knew it. It had been better—was still better—when they treated him with indifference, even dislike. Oh, it hurt like hell, but he had a feeling the other way would hurt even worse.

"I'm sorry," Chris said, swallowing to clear the bitter shame from his mouth. "It's nothing something I—she does on purpose. It's just… easier."

Bianca hated the Charmed Ones for a lot of reasons. For not stopping Wyatt, for getting themselves killed when the world needed them, for failing to protect Chris. She wasn't as forgiving as him, and she had no attachments to any of the sisters. Chris wasn't sure how he was going to keep her from offending Phoebe, Piper and Paige, especially if she was going to stay in the same house.

"Well, tell her to watch it. As long as she's in our home, she works by our rules, alright?"

Chris hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

* * *

Phoebe watched Bianca for the first few minutes as the Phoenix moved around the kitchen. There was familiarity in the way she casually rummaged through the cabinets, and it made Phoebe suspicious.

"Been here before?" she asked, leaning against the counter in a seemingly nonchalant way. Bianca shot her a look that told Phoebe she wasn't fooling her.

"I took a lot of tours," Bianca replied flippantly, reaching for a glass on the top shelf. Then she halted and winced minutely. Phoebe noticed the way her cheeks paled and her breath came out quicker, and it hit her again that the Phoenix was dying. Her heart ached for Chris.

"Tours?" Phoebe repeated purposefully. Bianca wouldn't respond to words of concern, so Phoebe didn't bother saying them.

"Yeah. The manor's a museum in the future," Bianca said, finally landing her fingers on the glass. She pulled it down and set it on the counter, but made no move to fill it. She seemed exhausted from the small effort it took to get the cup.

"Is it that bad?" Phoebe asked finally.

Bianca studied her through guarded, wary eyes. Then she said, "Comes and goes. Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe."

Phoebe eyed Bianca for another moment. "Why don't you sit down? I'll fix you something to eat."

Bianca's eyes hardened. "I don't need your help."

Phoebe threw her hands up in frustration. "God, what is it with you people from the future? Why do you always have to pull the broody, defensive, 'I have to do this all by myself' crap? You can't be independent all the time, Bianca. It's going to get you killed."

Bianca flinched noticeably, and Phoebe regretted taking the low blow. She was just so aggravated at being treated like she couldn't be trusted—or worse, like she was the enemy.

"You three," Bianca said slowly, deliberately. "_You_ let this happen."

Phoebe had expected nothing else from Bianca, but it was still hard to hear. "Chris doesn't think so."

"Chris loves you too much to see things clearly," Bianca said, eyes blazing inside of her pale face. "The truth is, Wyatt was your responsibility. All three of you were supposed to keep him safe and under control, but you failed. And worse, you got yourselves killed and left Chris _alone _to fight him. I won't forgive you for that."

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Phoebe said calmly. "But I will ask for respect. No matter what you think of us, we deserve that much."

Bianca stared at her unblinkingly, and Phoebe held her gaze. After a few long seconds, Bianca looked away. "Fine."

Pleased with herself, Phoebe went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of juice. Walking around the counter, she grabbed Bianca's cup and filled it to the brim. If the ill witch disliked Phoebe's actions, she didn't let her displeasure show. Bianca took a few long gulps and then set the cup back down, and Phoebe thought she might have looked embarrassed. Then she turned to Phoebe again, and her expression was hard and cold once more.

"So level with me," Bianca demanded, resting her elbows on the counter. "What do you know about Chris?"

Phoebe raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you know he's…." Bianca drifted off, looking hesitant for the first time. Phoebe found it interesting that Bianca respected Chris' privacy, even though she didn't seem to care about anyone else's.

"My nephew?" Phoebe finished, and Bianca let out a long breath.

"How'd you find out?" the Phoenix asked.

"He told me. Well, more or less. None of the others know, though," Phoebe faltered, unsure if she should berate Bianca while the Phoenix was so sick. But her compassion for Chris won out over her sympathy for Bianca. "You shouldn't have told him to hide himself from us. It's been hard for him."

Bianca's eyes flashed and her hand slammed down onto the counter. "Do you honestly think I didn't have his best interests in mind? _You_ don't know how hard it's been for him. You have no clue."

"You know him pretty well, don't you?" Phoebe asked, ignoring Bianca's defensive comments. She waited until Bianca gave her a curt nod, and then she continued, "So you know he's not like this. I obviously wasn't there while he was growing up, but I can tell his family's important to him. He wants to open up to us, but he's too afraid."

Bianca looked no less angry. "He has reason to be. Because you're right, Phoebe, his family was the most important thing to him. And one by one, every single one of you left." She scoffed, her temper flashing in her eyes. "Of course he doesn't want to get close to any of you. He doesn't want to live through the same thing all over again."

Phoebe could see that arguing was pointless. Although they both loved Chris and wanted what was best for him, Bianca couldn't see past her own anger towards the Charmed Ones. She was too convinced that Chris was better off without them.

"So do you want something to eat or not?" Phoebe asked finally, dropping the subject completely.

Bianca eyed her as if she thought Phoebe was tricking her somehow. "I'm fine," she said eventually. "Not much of an appetite these days."

Phoebe didn't answer for a little while. "We'll help you, you know. I can't make any promises, but we'll do our best."

Bianca shook her head and closed her eyes. "I know. That's what scares me."

"You can't blame Chris for wanting to save you."

Bianca opened her eyes again, her expression weary. "I don't, but I don't want to get him killed. You don't understand. Death… it doesn't scare me. I _want_ to stay alive, but when you grow up in a family of assassins, you get used to the idea of dying."

That idea made Phoebe sad. "I've lived with demons and superpowers and death for a long time. I don't think I'll ever be used to the idea of dying."

Bianca met her eyes. "That's where you and I are different."

Phoebe nodded after a moment, again realizing that there was no point in arguing. Whether Bianca really was prepared to die or whether she was terrified, it was obvious she wasn't going to expose any weaknesses to Phoebe.

"You two alright in here?"

Chris' voice caused both women to look around in surprise. Phoebe smiled encouragingly, and Bianca's cold expression seemed to soften at the edges. Chris immediately went to Bianca, pulling her into him. They stayed that way only a moment, but Phoebe could still see the honesty in Chris' gesture. Bianca likewise displayed uncharacteristic openness, and Phoebe was strangely moved by the sight of it.

Under different circumstances, she would worry about her nephew falling in love with someone so different from him. But in Chris' situation, she had a feeling Bianca was the only one who could truly understand what he was going through. She was glad they had each other.

"I've been thinking…" Chris began, and the hesitancy in his voice grabbed Phoebe's attention. She and Bianca stared at him in joint expectancy. "We should call Leo."

"What?!" Bianca began immediately, face flushing with anger. "Chris, _why_? After everything he's done to you, why would we go to him for help?"

"What did Leo do?" Phoebe asked quickly, but as she expected, both Bianca and Chris clammed up immediately.

After a small pause, Chris said, "That's the future, Bianca, not now, and he can heal. It's worth a shot."

"What makes you think he'll bother? The last time he saw me I was trying to take you back to Wyatt."

Chris' jaw was set, his expression stubborn. "We have to try."

Bianca looked like she wanted to argue, but after a moment she seemed to sink in on herself. Phoebe thought Bianca might not have the strength to go against Chris' formidable willpower. "Fine."

Chris didn't wait for Bianca or Phoebe to say anything else. Instead, he tensed like he bracing himself for something and then called, "Leo!"

There was silence in the kitchen. Phoebe looked around, strangely nervous that Leo wouldn't show up. She understood Chris' plan, but she also knew that asking Leo for anything made Chris uneasy. She was dying to know why, but he never answered her when she asked.

Finally blue orbs erupted just to Chris' right, and Leo appeared a second later. He was dressed in Elder's robes and his face was set in a serene expression.

"Chris, I—" Leo caught sight of Bianca, and all trace of serenity fled from him. Abruptly Leo looked furious, and his eyes flew to Phoebe. "_What_ is she doing here?"

"I told you this was pointless!" Bianca exploded before Phoebe could answer, looking just as angry as Leo. "_He_ won't help us, Chris!"

"Help you?" Leo asked with a look of disbelief. "You're lucky the Charmed Ones haven't vanquished you!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Phoebe interrupted, holding out a hand to both Leo and Bianca. Chris stood somewhere in the middle, looking unsure. "Leo, Bianca's not here to hurt any of us. She's sick, and she needs your help."

"What?" Leo asked, confusion and anger warring in his expression. "Why would we—" Then something seemed to click in Leo's mind, and he turned toward Chris.

"Please try," Chris said tightly, and Phoebe could tell the words cost him a lot.

Leo studied Chris hard for a few seconds, and then finally he nodded. His expression was stiff with tension as he turned to Bianca, but he held out his hands obligingly. Bianca looked like she might not accept Leo's gesture, but she stepped forward after a glance at Chris. Leo's hands landed lightly around Bianca's shoulders, but the witch reacted as if his grasp was bruising. She didn't move away, but her expression went rigid with anger.

There was silence as Leo closed his eyes and concentrated, and then a golden glow began in his fingertips. Phoebe held her breath and knew that Chris was doing the same, but a second later Leo's eyes snapped open and the glow flickered and died.

"I can't," Leo said, a little breathless from the effort. "I can feel the disease, but I can't do anything to combat it. I'm sorry."

It was clear he was speaking to Chris and not Bianca, because he had released the witch as soon as his powers failed. Chris nodded but avoided Leo's gaze; Phoebe thought he was blinking back tears.

"It's okay," Chris said finally, looking from Phoebe to Leo until he finally focused on Bianca. "We'll find another way."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"How'd it happen?"

Bianca raised her eyebrows at Chris. They were alone, the sisters having granted them some rare privacy. "I told you."

"I know, but I want the details," Chris replied, his face tightening as he said it.

"No, you don't," she said gently, leaning her head against his shoulder. She knew it would only hurt him to hear what Wyatt had done to her.

"Maybe not, but I _need_ to know," Chris replied persistently. His stubbornness had never bothered her before; in fact, she had always found it one of his best qualities. He fought for his beliefs no matter what opposition he received, and she liked that he wasn't weak. Still, she had become too sick to resist him, and it frustrated her.

"Fine," she relented, and she caught the sadness that flashed through his eyes. He recognized it too, that she wasn't nearly as strong as she used to be. "He healed me, and then he said he wanted me to go back into the past to find you again. I said no, and he imprisoned me for awhile in the Underworld."

She saw his jaw clench as he reached out to her. She allowed him to pull her into his embrace. "God, Bianca, I'm sorry. If I'd known…."

"You would have tried to stop it, and he would have killed you," Bianca interrupted firmly, pulling back to stare into his eyes. "Which is exactly why I'm glad you didn't."

He nodded and let go of her, but they stayed only a few inches a part. "So what happened next?"

"Not much, for awhile," Bianca said, shaking her head as the memories tried to take over. Wyatt hadn't been kind to her, but Chris didn't need to hear about that. "Then one day he came to me with a vial. He told me to drink it; I said I wouldn't."

"He forced you?" Chris asked, mouth tight and eyes hard.

She didn't bother trying to sugarcoat it. "Yeah. Then he told me that if I didn't bring you back, I'd die. I think he expected me to value my life more than yours."

Chris smiled wryly at that. "He never understood you." Then his expression turned sad. "I wish you did."

"No, Chris," she said simply, shaking her head at him. "Even if I didn't love you, all hope of a better future lies with you."

His shoulders slumped, and she was startled by his sudden dejectedness. "But it hasn't changed at all, had it?"

She understood his question, and she shook her head unwillingly. She knew how hard he'd been working in the past, and she wished she had a different answer for him. "No. It's still the same."

"Dammit," he cursed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. She touched him lightly, hoping to comfort him. His hand closed around hers.

"So did he say where the potion came from?" Chris asked after a moment, his eyes focused as he opened them again. "Did he get it from a demon?"

Bianca nodded thoughtfully. "He must have. At least, I don't know any witches who would cook up something like this."

"Then maybe we can find that demon," Chris said quickly, and his eyes lit with sudden hope. "Maybe we can force him to give us the antidote."

"I don't know, Chris. Trying to find a demon that works for Wyatt twenty years into the future? It's not going to be—" She broke off when she saw the anger and panic welling in Chris' eyes. He was terrified for her, and she knew he was desperate to find a way to help. "But maybe it's worth a shot," she finished, for his sake.

"Okay," he said quietly, and she knew he was trying to convince himself that his plan could work. She hoped it did, more for him than for her. He had lost so many people, and she didn't want to be another scar. "So tell me your symptoms."

"Chris…." She protested, knowing it would hurt him again, but he just stared at her unbendingly. She sighed. "At first it wasn't that noticeable. My heart raced a little, and my temperature was a little higher than normal. But then I started to lose my powers, and now I can feel it constantly—all my muscles ache, and I can't do anything strenuous. Sometimes my chest tightens and I feel like I can't breathe."

He released a shaky sigh and pulled her to him gently, like he was afraid he would break her. She hated being treated like glass, and she hated that his assessment was all too accurate. She _was_ weak, and she didn't feel like she would be able to keep pretending much longer.

"I'm sorry," she said, blinking back the first tears that had filled her eyes since the day Wyatt had almost killed Chris. It was funny, the way she never really cried for herself.

"For what?" he asked, pulling back enough to look at her. "For being sick? For the way Wyatt's using you? None of that's your fault. You're the victim here."

She hated that even more than she hated being fragile, but she let the comment slip away. He hugged her again, and she let him. He needed this, and deep down, so did she.

"I love you," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I love you, too."

* * *

The emotions tugged at Phoebe's heart, and a watery knot formed in her throat. She blinked away unexpected tears, trying to focus on her task. She was here to make sure that neither of her sisters overheard Bianca and Chris' discussion.

She took one more look down the deserted hall and then peeked inside the room. Chris held Bianca in a careful hug, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck. Both had their eyes closed, and Phoebe knew that neither was aware of her presence. They were too wrapped up in each other.

Despite the situation surrounding Bianca's reappearance, it warmed her to see Chris reacting so openly to another person. He had been completely cut off from everyone since he'd come to the past, and Phoebe knew it was really hurting him. She had tried to get him to open up, to push through the barrier of protectiveness he had created around himself, but she hadn't made any progress. She knew his reservations stemmed from hurt, sorrow and loss, but she wished he would give her a chance. Still, he had Bianca now, and she could tell that the Phoenix's presence helped soothe Phoebe's tortured nephew.

Yes, he had Bianca now. And he would keep her, Phoebe thought, clenching her jaw hard in determination. Phoebe would make sure of it.

"Hey, Pheebs? What are you doing?"

Phoebe jolted in guilty surprise, whirling around to face Piper. Phoebe cast a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that Bianca and Chris were unaware of Piper's sudden presence.

"Hey," Phoebe said finally, trying to smile. It fell flat, and Piper raised her eyebrows.

"What's going on?" Piper asked suspiciously, inching past Phoebe to look into the room, herself. She stayed quiet for a moment, surveying the scene. Then she stepped back and shook her head.

"Chris and that girl," Piper scoffed quietly, and Phoebe felt her expression tighten.

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked, as casually as she could.

"Nothing," Piper said, shaking her head again and shrugging her shoulders. "Just, I'm glad he's not my son."

Phoebe tried to stop her reactions, but she couldn't. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. "_What_?"

Piper stared at her, obviously confused by the extreme response. "You know, so I don't have to deal with… all of _this_." She gestured vaguely to the doorway for emphasis. Phoebe blinked at her uncomprehendingly. "Oh, you know what I'm trying to say! What if Wyatt fell in love with a girl like that?"

Phoebe's face hardened, and Piper looked surprised. "So let me get this straight. You'd be upset if Wyatt, who turns evil and takes over the world in the future, fell in love with a Phoenix? The same Phoenix who, despite being an assassin, fought against Wyatt and risked her life to send Chris back in time and ultimately save the world? Is that what you're telling me?"

Piper's self-righteousness gradually left her expression, replaced by a sheepish look. "Alright, fine, I get your point. But if none of that happened, if Wyatt was just a healthy, happy, _good_ boy, are you really saying that you'd be okay with him loving someone like her?"

"I don't know," Phoebe said honestly; she couldn't deny that she had her own reservations about Bianca. "But I know that in Chris' future, Wyatt's _not_ a good boy, and I know that Bianca was there for Chris even when his own family wasn't. She may be a lot of things, but she loves him. And he loves her."

"Since when do you know all this?" Piper asked, a flicker of anger lighting her face. "Has he been telling you things again?"

Phoebe realized that she'd said a lot more than she had meant to. "No! Look, I'm an empath, alright? I can just…. _feel_ things sometimes. And that's what I feel when I look at them. So please, Piper, back off."

Piper's expression wavered for a moment, as if she couldn't decide whether to be furious or ashamed. Then she shook her head, and weariness won out over both emotions. "Whatever, Phoebe. I'm helping the girl, aren't I? I think that's pretty big of me, considering the last time she was here she cast a spell on us, held a knife to my throat and attacked our Whitelighter."

Phoebe wilted a little at that. "Well… yeah. I guess you have a point. But let's just save her, alright? Regardless of how we feel, Chris needs her. And he's already lost too many people he needs."

Piper narrowed her eyes, looking as if she wanted to start questioning Phoebe again. Then she gave up and shook her head. "Fine. I'm going to make dinner."

Phoebe watched Piper walk down the hall. "Wait," Phoebe called, and Piper turned around, eyebrows raised. Phoebe hurried to catch up with her.

"The disapproval over Bianca dating your son?" Phoebe began, realizing she was toeing the line but knowing it needed to be said. "You should probably work on getting over it."

Piper's eyes narrowed even more, and her lips thinned. Phoebe was sure she would ask more questions, but after a moment, Piper just nodded. As her sister walked away, Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief. Then she moved back to the room that Bianca and Chris occupied. After listening for a moment, she knocked quietly.

"Guys?" She called, poking her head in again. They were separated now, Chris leaning casually against the table and Bianca standing stiffly next to him. "Piper's making dinner. It'll be ready soon."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"_Tell me_!"

Chris gripped the witch-doctor's throat tightly, his other hand shoving the old man's body into the hard, rocky cave wall behind him. Anger lit his face and tightened his expression, and fear flashed into the witch-doctor's eyes.

"I can't," the old man wheezed, his voice tight and high with fear. "I'm telling you, I can't. I don't know."

Chris bared his teeth and breathed heavily through his nose, shaking the old man and squeezing his throat even tighter. The witch-doctor gasped and sputtered, clawing at Chris' fingers.

"I'm not giving you anymore chances," Chris said, moving close to the old man's face. Desperation made his actions a little harsher and rougher than they normally would have been. "Tell me what I want to know!"

"There are many potions that could cause something like this!" The witch-doctor began once Chris loosened his grip a little. "There are too many possibilities—I'd have to test her, and even then, I might not be able to identify what's affecting her."

Chris felt the fury threaten to overwhelm him, and he knew the witch-doctor could sense it. The old man's eyes widened and his toothless mouth gaped open in terror. Then Chris forced the emotion down, struggling to gain control over his panic and anger. He wouldn't let it rule him; he wouldn't let it make him do things he would regret.

"How can you test her?" Chris asked tersely.

"There are ways," the witch-doctor gasped, relief shining on his face. "Bring her here, and I'll do what you wish. I can't promise to save her, but I'll try."

Chris thought about that for a moment. Again his desperation gnawed at him, and he could almost hear the frantic ticking of the clock. Every second lost was a second Bianca would never get back.

"Fine," Chris said, gritting his teeth tightly. He didn't like the plan, but it was there only chance and he had to believe it would work. "I'll bring her here."

The witch-doctor nodded frantically in relief, but Chris reached out suddenly and grabbed the man's throat again. The witch-doctor's eyes widened in shock. "But know this," Chris hissed, his voice low and menacing. "If anything happens to her, if you double-cross me again, I _will_ kill you."

He held onto the old man just long enough to make sure he knew Chris wasn't exaggerating. Then he released the witch-doctor and immediately orbed back to the manor.

* * *

"So you're saying he'll help?" Piper questioned, crossing her arms over her chest. She, Leo and Paige stood on one side of the attic, while Bianca and Chris stood facing them on the other side. Phoebe lingered somewhere in the middle. "How do you know you can trust him, though?"

"He gave us the potion to block your emotions," Chris replied tightly, trying to stay calm. He already knew he was going to go through with the plan, and he didn't want to sit here talking about it.

"Right, and nothing happened to you two or Chris when you took it, so—" Phoebe broke off when she saw that everyone was staring at her incredulously. Then she met Chris' gaze, and realization flared in her eyes. "Oops," she said weakly, her eyes apologetic. "Sorry."

Chris just shook his head. At this point, it didn't even matter.

"Wait, so Chris _did_ take the potion to block his emotions?" Leo asked, his voice suddenly tight and sharp. Chris looked at him quickly, almost hoping that this would reawaken Leo's suspicion and hostility.

Chris didn't bother trying to deny it, either. "Yeah, you caught me. I went looking for the potion because I didn't want Phoebe being able to read me."

Chris met Leo's eyes, and was irritated when he didn't see any mistrust there. He saw anger and frustration and perhaps even annoyance, but not suspicion.

"And apparently Phoebe's been keeping secrets for you," Paige said, throwing Phoebe an accusing look. "'Oops, sorry'? Since when do you take his side over ours?"

"Since when are we on sides, Paige?" Phoebe countered, planting her hands on her hips. "Chris is our Whitelighter, and we're all trying to reach the same goal. There aren't any teams in this."

Chris didn't say anything, but he was moved by the way Phoebe had defended him. It had been a long time since any of his family members had stuck up for him. Then he shook his head and tried to force the conversation back on topic. "Look, can we deal with this some other time? You guys can yell at me or hit me or whatever you want later, but right now we need to focus."

His speech seemed to shake all of them, but not for the reasons he had intended.

"Hit you?" Piper echoed, and Chris felt like smacking his forehead in frustration. He glanced at Leo, surprised to find that the Elder looked stricken.

"Chris—" he began, but Chris interrupted him.

"Look, it doesn't _matter_ right now, alright? Can we just get back to Bianca, please?"

He was bordering on desperate, and he nearly flinched when he felt Bianca's light touch on his arm. He met her eyes and nodded, grateful for her silent support.

"Bianca's sick," Chris said to the rest of them, and his voice wavered only a little. "And this is the only way we can help her. If you're worried, if you want to come, fine. I don't care. But we're going."

"What if it's not safe for her, Chris?" Piper asked, holding up her hands to stall him. "She doesn't have her powers and this is the Underworld we're talking about. Even if the witch-doctor is trustworthy, what if something else comes along?"

"I'm not useless," Bianca snapped, eyes lighting with fire. Even as she said it, her face blanched and her breathing picked up noticeably. Chris stared at her, unable to keep the grief from covering his face. She was dying right in front of him, and it tore him up inside to witness it.

"Come with us if you're worried," Chris repeated, grabbing Bianca's hand. He prepared to orb, but she pulled out of his grasp.

"Wait," Bianca said, and to Chris' confusion and impatience, she walked toward Leo. "He's the one who did it, right?" she asked Chris, her cold eyes on the Elder.

"Bianca, it doesn't—" Chris began, but he broke off when Bianca punched Leo square in the jaw. Leo reeled and Bianca collapsed, and Chris reached her before she hit the floor. She breathed harshly in his arms, her face pale as death. Looking at her like this reminded him of the time she had almost died in the future, and misery froze his lungs. Why was he always watching her die?

He looked up at Leo, who was rubbing his jaw with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Instinctive anger burned in his eyes, but it faded as he looked down at Bianca and Chris. Finally he shrugged. "I deserved that. You guys should get going."

Chris stared at Leo for a moment, taking in the reddened skin of his father's jaw. Then he nodded and grabbed Bianca's hand. Together they orbed down to the Underworld, and he heard the faint jingling that indicated Paige following along after him.

The familiar cold breathed through him, and Bianca shivered at his side. He rubbed her shoulders and turned towards the sisters.

"Okay," he said tersely, gently disengaging Bianca from his side and nudging her toward the sisters. "You guys watch her, and I'll go first."

"Uh, no," Paige said, shooing Bianca back toward Chris. The Phoenix shot her an angry look, but there was no true power in it. "You watch your girlfriend and we'll go first."

"I don't—" Chris began, instinctively pulling Bianca back toward him.

"No, she's right," Piper interrupted, stepping forward. The other sisters followed along after her. "I know being the Charmed Ones doesn't mean much in your future, Chris, but here it means a lot. We'll go first."

He pushed back the jumbled mix of emotions he experienced at Piper's words and gripped Bianca's arm bracingly. He knew she must hate getting shuffled around like a child who needed watching, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. With Bianca at his side and the sister's in front of him, Chris set off to the witch-doctor's cave.

It was just up ahead, and they reached it without any dangerous encounters. The sisters entered the round, wide cavern first, and Chris followed suit. The witch-doctor turned toward them, standing over a bubbling pot of something green and glutinous. His mostly empty mouth gaped open in surprise.

"You weren't supposed to bring them," the old man said, his eyes wide with fear.

Chris waved a dismissive hand, and the witch-doctor flinched. "I don't think you have the right to make demands in this situation," Chris said, his voice just hard enough to send another shudder through the old man. "Bianca's here, now find out what's wrong with her."

"It's dangerous to work for the Charmed Ones," the old man murmured, but he made no further argument as he walked toward Bianca. She glanced at Chris, who nodded curtly. Her face looked even paler in the dim light of the Underworld.

The witch-doctor's beady eyes narrowed as he studied Bianca. "The spell has advanced far," he said, reaching knobby hands to grab the Phoenix. Bianca pulled back instinctively, but Chris placed a reassuring hand on her arm. After a moment, she nodded and let the old man touch her.

His eyes closed and his mouth lulled open, and Chris couldn't help being disgusted by the expression. Chris held his breath, ready to pull Bianca back in a moments' notice should she seem to be suffering. After a few moments, the old man's eyes shuddered open.

"I can't sense what's wrong with her," the man said finally, wheezing a little and looking almost as pale as Bianca. "It's something unbelievably strong. Do you know who did this?'

"Someone unbelievably strong," Chris said through clenched teeth. "Look, you said you had tests. Do them now."

The old man stared at him warily, and then looked at Bianca. "Why should I help you? I have no guarantee that you won't kill me, even if I do my best for this woman."

"If you don't do it, you're dead either way," Chris threatened, taking a step forward, but Phoebe was suddenly gripping his arm and pulling him back. She shot him a fierce glare.

"He won't hurt you," she promised, her voice full of confidence. "And neither will we, as long as you try to help."

The witch-doctor nodded after a moment and walked back to his bubbling cauldron. Chris would have found the huge pot funny under different circumstances, since he was so used to his family's small pewter cauldron. The old man scooped up some of the green liquid and filled a small vial. He walked back over to Bianca, and Chris moved closer to her instinctively.

"Here," the old man said, holding the glass vial out to her. She took it after a moment but looked at Chris uncertainly. "Drink it."

"Wait a minute," Chris protested immediately, taking the potion from Bianca's hands. "What's it going to do to her?'

"It's an Identifying Potion," the witch-doctor explained, sounding somewhat impatient for the first time. "If there's a specific place that's effected by what's happening to her—say her heart or her stomach—then that place will glow."

"Glow?" Chris repeated, more surprised than suspicious. He tried to imagine Bianca lit up by some strange magical glow, and he failed.

"This is why you brought me here, Chris," Bianca said, snatching the bottle back more swiftly than he had thought her capable. "To see if he could help. We have to stop arguing with him."

She swallowed the potion in one gulp, pulling a face as if it tasted sour. Nothing happened for a moment, and Chris' heart pounded against his ribcage. He didn't know what was better; if the potion worked or if it didn't. Then, slowly, Bianca began to glow. The eerie, greenish glow started at her fingertips, and then bled into her arms and chest. The strange light even engulfed Bianca's head, until it looked as if Chris was staring at her through a blurred, emerald-tinted window.

The witch-doctor made a noise of distress, and Chris ripped his eyes from Bianca's bright form. "_What_?" he demanded.

"It's as I feared," the old man said, shaking his bald head almost sadly. "I could maybe help if it was affecting _one_ part of her. But whatever potion she was given, it was designed to attack _all_ of her."

Blood rushed to Chris' face, and he could feel himself flushing. Whether it was from anger or fear he couldn't tell. "What does that mean?"

"It means I can't do anything ," the old man replied, speaking Chris' worst fears aloud. Before anyone could stop him, Chris lunged for the witch-doctor. He shoved him back hard, causing him to knock into the table behind him. It was laden with numerous magical items, some of which toppled to the floor and shattered.

"That's not acceptable," Chris said, but before he could even make a threat, hands were pulling him back. He looked around wildly and realized that Phoebe and Paige were holding him tightly, and he shook them off impatiently. Piper stepped in front of him, blocking his path to the old man.

"You're sure there's nothing else you can do?" Piper asked, her voice serious and hard. Though she phrased her speech like a question, it was more of a demand. By the look on the old man's face, Chris could tell that the witch-doctor knew as much.

"No," the man said, with enough certainty that Chris believed him. His heart froze and his stomach plummeted to his feet.

"Then thank you for your time," Piper said, and with a swift nod at her sisters, she turned and walked away. They followed her, Phoebe casting a glance at Chris as she went. He looked at her, and then turned to stare at the old man.

He was still debating on whether to leave or keep trying when Bianca doubled over beside him. He quickly reached her side and bent down in front of her, offering his hands for support. Instead of trying to get any more out of the useless witch-doctor, he quickly orbed Bianca home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Bianca fell to the floor as soon as they materialized in the attic, and Chris went with her to break her fall. She was breathing harshly, like she couldn't get enough air no matter how much she pulled in, and the bizarre glow around her had faded. Her skin looked as thin and fragile as paper, and her hands were trembling in his.

She looked up at him, opening her mouth to speak, and then her eyes rolled back into her head and she lost consciousness.

"_Bianca_!" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her gently. He wanted to shake her harder and force her awake, but he didn't think her frail body could cope with it. "Bianca, wake up! _Bianca_!"

And then suddenly Leo was at his side, supporting Bianca's head and examining her with a medical eye. Chris cursed, realizing he should have been doing those things himself. He used to respond so well to stressful situations, but the past had made him slow and panicky again.

Chris looked up hopelessly, and his eyes landed on the sisters. They were all staring at either him or Bianca in concern, but he had little patience for their kindness. It did nothing to help. Their sympathy hadn't stopped Wyatt's war, it hadn't kept the sisters alive, and it wasn't saving Bianca now. He looked back just in time to see Leo scoop Bianca up, the same way Chris had seen him pick up Melinda a hundred times before.

"I'll do it," Chris said, hurrying forward protectively, but Leo shook his head.

"I'm taking her to Phoebe's room," Leo said, his voice serious. "I don't think she's going to wake up anytime soon, and we need to keep her comfortable."

"What do you mean she won't wake up?" Chris demanded, his voice rising an octave and turning sharp with fear.

"Her body's exhausted," Leo said, and then he orbed downstairs. Chris quickly followed after him, reappearing just as he settled Bianca's prone form on the neatly-made bed.

"What can we do for her?" Chris asked, continuing their conversation as if they hadn't just completely shifted rooms.

"I don't think there's anything we can do," Leo said, straightening and looking sadly at Chris. Fear welled in Chris's throat, bitter and hard. He tried to speak, but the ball of panic choked his words.

"She needs the cure," Leo continued after a moment of silence. "Nothing else will help her."

"H—how long?" Chris asked, his words husky and fearful.

"A day, maybe two," Leo said, shaking his head. "Chris, I'm so—"

"Don't!" Chris interrupted, the terror blocking his throat dissolving in a rush of anger. "_Don't_ tell me you're sorry. You don't care and you know it! You have no idea what it's like! God, you people, you just sit here in the past like the future isn't real, but she's the only person who has any idea!"

"Chris, calm down—" Leo began, reaching a hand out to him, but Chris stepped away.

"Don't touch me!" Chris demanded, but his voice cracked. The emotions were gathering like a storm inside of him, and he was afraid they'd crush him if he gave them the chance.

"It'll be okay," Leo said, his voice deceptively reassuring. Chris knew Leo couldn't possibly know that, but part of him wanted so much to believe it. Part of him wanted to hand over his burdens to his father and let Leo carry them for just a little while.

"She's all I've got left," Chris whispered, and he could hear the heartbreak in his own voice.

"I know," Leo said, resting a hand on Chris's arm. Chris let it stay there for just a moment, drawing some comfort from the father who had never offered any before now. Then he pulled away.

"I'll be back," Chris said, and orbed away before Leo had the chance to say anything.

* * *

Phoebe walked into the room to see Leo shaking his head sadly, Bianca lying on the bed and Chris nowhere in sight. Paige followed along behind her.

"Where is he?" Phoebe asked immediately.

"Gone," Leo said, looking from Bianca to Phoebe and back again. Then he concentrated for a moment, and Phoebe knew he was sensing Chris' location. "He's at P3."

"What did you tell him?" Phoebe asked, though there was no accusation in her voice—she knew Leo had only told Chris the truth. That was the problem. Looking at Bianca now, Phoebe knew the truth had to be horrible.

"I told him she's going to die unless she gets the cure, and soon," Leo said, shaking his head. The sadness lingered in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Phoebe, but it's true. There's nothing any of us can do for her anymore, and we don't have time to find or make a new antidote."

Phoebe's throat welled with sympathy, and she forced the watery lump back down. She knew how this must be affecting Chris.

Abruptly Phoebe turned to Paige. "Take me to P3," she commanded, using the sisterly, superior tone she rarely ever took with her younger sibling.

"What, why?" Paige asked, shaking her head. "Phoebe, if he left, it's because he wants to be alone. I don't think we should barge in on him when he's—"

"You don't understand," Phoebe interrupted, and then she shook her head in frustration. Of course they didn't understand—they didn't know Chris was family. It was perfectly acceptable to leave their neurotic Whitelighter to his grief, but it was another thing entirely to ignore the pain of their nephew. Phoebe just wished she could _tell_ them that. "Paige, I don't think he should be alone right now. Please just take me there?"

Paige rolled her eyes in frustration but nodded. She grabbed Phoebe's arm, and then the two of them disappeared in a burst of blue orbs. They reappeared in P3, which was conveniently empty. The only sound was a hollow, repetitive thunk that echoed from somewhere in the back. Paige stepped forward quickly, but Phoebe grabbed her arm.

"Let me deal with this," Phoebe said. Paige looked annoyed and crossed her arms over her chest, but she nodded.

Phoebe turned away and approached the storage room, walking quickly but quietly. She turned the knob and stepped hurriedly inside the room, shutting the door behind her.

Then she ducked when a book came flying at her face. It hit the closed door and ricocheted off, landing with a thump on the ground.

"Oh, God, Phoebe, sorry—" Chris said, hurrying toward her. He looked haggard and pale, but his eyes were the worst of it. Phoebe had never seen them so hopeless and broken.

"It's fine," she said, reaching her hands out to him. "Chris, how are you—"

"Don't," Chris interrupted with a short, bitter laugh. "You should know better than to ask me that."

"I'm so sorry," Phoebe said, tears filling her eyes as she stared at her nephew. "I wish—if there was _anything_ I could do—"

"There's not," Chris said harshly, but his voice broke and ruined his veneer. He looked on the verge of tears for a moment, and then he regained himself—she could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to hide his misery. "There's nothing any of you can do."

Phoebe knew her touch was probably unwanted, but she couldn't resist offering it. She walked forward and hugged him, the same way she'd done when she found out who he really was. Chris hesitated a moment and then clung to her, and she could imagine him doing the very same thing as a little boy, crying over problems much less serious and terrible.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Phoebe said again, running her fingers comfortingly through his hair. "I love you."

He pulled back and looked at her, and she held his gaze, her eyes serious. He nodded after a moment. "I love you, too."

She patted him on the shoulder, and the moment would have been peaceful had the door not slammed open unexpectedly. A distraught and angry Paige stood on the other side, her hands planted firmly on her hips and her expression mutinous.

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Paige demanded, and Phoebe and Chris stared at her in stunned surprise. "'I love you'? And the defending and the comforting and the whispered conversations that you think I haven't noticed—" Paige broke off and gasped, her hand jumping to cover her mouth. "Oh, my God! You guys are together!"

Phoebe held up her hands to stall her sister while Chris continued to look at Paige as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Paige went on furiously, "This is just—this is sick is what it is! He's got a dying fiancé at home and—oh, my God, Phoebe, _he's not even born yet_! Do you even know the amount of therapy you two need because of this—!"

"Stop it," Chris commanded roughly, and Paige fell silent at last.

Phoebe's tongue finally came unglued from the top of her mouth, and she said, "You've got it all wrong, Paige. We're not _dating_—that's just disgusting. No, Chris is…"

She stopped and looked at Chris, unsure of what to do. She really didn't want to give him more problems, and Paige finding out his secret was definitely a problem. Still, there was no other way to stem her sister's crazy accusations—even though the truth seemed even crazier.

"She's my aunt," Chris said finally, his voice weary. It was clear the secret was low on his list of concerns at the moment. "And so are you. I'm Piper and Leo's son."

Paige's fell open and stayed that way for a good minute, and then it snapped shut with such force that Phoebe's own teeth ached.

"You… you're my—" Paige began, disbelief in her words.

"Nephew," Chris finished impatiently. "Yes."

Paige looked towards Phoebe, and Phoebe nodded in response to her questioning gaze. "It's true. I know it seems impossible, but he's one of us. A Halliwell."

"This is why you've been so protective of him," Paige said, still sounding as if she had been hit over the head with something very heavy. "Why you seem so close now. He's—Piper is your mother."

"Yeah," Chris said, his expression slightly pained.

"And we're your family, so that means we're all dead in the future," Paige deduced, sounding slightly more pulled-together now.

Chris rolled his eyes heavenward as if looking for help there. "And now there's another person who knows something they shouldn't."

"Does Piper know?" Paige demanded, her usual bluntness gradually returning.

"No!" Chris and Phoebe said at the same time. Chris looked at Phoebe and she let him continue. "And I'd appreciate if you didn't tell her, Paige. I can't—I can't deal with anything else right now. I just can't."

"Yeah," Paige said, her expression softening at the edges. "I get that. I won't tell her, I promise."

Chris looked relieved, but he also looked as if all of his earlier problems were returning to him at full force. Without a word, he collapsed on the couch and buried his head in his hands. Phoebe moved to sit next to him, but he looked up at her.

"Can you please go?" Chris asked, his voice constricted. "I know you just want to help, but I—I'm not used to anyone helping and I think I could handle it better on my own."

"You don't _have_ to be alone, Chris," Phoebe argued, aching to reach out for him again. "That's what family is for."

"Please," Chris asked again, looking away from her. It was the first time he had ever begged her to do anything, and for that reason, Phoebe listened. She nodded even though he wasn't looking at her, and she indicated for Paige to walk out the door.

The middle Charmed One followed along after her sister, but Phoebe stopped at the archway and added, "We'll go for now, but if you need anything, Chris, please come to us. We're all here for you."

She waited until he nodded, and then she walked out of his room, too. She reached Paige's side and Paige grabbed her hand, and together they orbed back to the manor.

* * *

Chris listened until he was sure the sisters were gone. Then he leapt from the couch and turned back to the wall behind him, using his telepathy to shut the door. The wall was half cleared-off, with most of the shelves and boxes stacked up behind the couch. He continued shoving books and supplies and other random things out of the way until he'd cleared a big enough space on the wall.

Reaching behind him, Chris grabbed a piece of chalk and began drawing the shape he needed. The spell Bianca had used to take him to the future still echoed in his head. He'd memorized it then, but he'd always hoped he would never have to use it.

When he finished the drawing on the wall, he stepped back for a moment to scrutinize his work. Then he took a deep breath and, trying not to think too deeply about what he was doing, began chanting the spell.


End file.
